


Fate/Reinaissance of Victors

by Greendess



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 64,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greendess/pseuds/Greendess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wealthy girl is sought by a call to adventure. A calculating young man seeks a way to help his only friend. A mysterious woman hides her true face behind the mask of friendliness. An underprivileged woman desires to reshape the world. A second child uses her freedom to risk her life. A proud warrior seeks to test the strength of his magecraft. An ordinary worker is dragged into circumstances, but willingly takes them.</p>
<p>The seven destinies intertwine due to the machinations of one boy. They bend to his whims as toys in the game of his ambition.</p>
<p>This is the Florence Holy Grail War.</p>
<p>-- This is an elsewhere series. --</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The Holy Grail War, a contest among seven mages for the ultimate prize of an omnipotent wish.

In order to attain this prize, the mages must summon Servants to do battle in their stead, legendary figures from the ancient past.

 

Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Berserker, Assassin. 

It is a ritual that has been practiced and repeated many times over, and despite the prize those in the know see it as a relatively minor excursion, in large part due to the intervention of the Church as a mediator.

 

One family, however, has made it their goal to use the Grail War for their own ambitions.

 

**[Atlas Academy, Egypt]**

 

The vice-director was surprised to hear that Martin Winfield showed up unannounced to the university. He’s young, sixteen if she recalled correctly, and has gone on record stating he had no desire to seek further education as for his needs, he has reached the end of what academia could provide him. This is not untrue, while it is a very narrow field, Martin appeared to understand more about the Heaven’s Feel than anyone else on the planet.

He correctly predicted “in the Winter of 2015, there will be a Grail War in London. In the Summer of 2016, another Heaven’s Feel shall begin in Italy.” The first prediction came true, and by April of 2016 the signs of another starting in Florence began. These predictions immediately rocketed Martin to a high degree of prominence, at least among the minority who concerned themselves with the Holy Grail War.

“Aren’t you going to offer me something to drink?” Martin asks, “It’s dreadfully hot out here in Egypt. Dry, as well.”

“We’re used to it.” Eltnam responds, “But if you insist. Water?”

“Tea, please.” He says, “I hear Egyptian tea is splendid.”

 

She follows his request despite it not doing much for the heat he complained about. Getting his drink didn’t seem to make him any more talkative.

“So?” she asks.

“Oh, yes, that’s right.” Martin lowers the cup from his lips, “Business, yes? I know you probably are only vaguely aware of my area of expertise so I’ll make it brief. Atlas Academy, you have the honor of a candidate for Master in the Holy Grail War!” he claps to himself quietly. No visible change in expression from his company.

“What are you referring to?” she asks, “I think if someone had command seals appearing on their hand I would have heard about it by now.”

“Not ‘had’, the word you’re looking for is ‘will’.” He explains, “There are some signs that it’s about to happen involving leylines and shifts of mana and the like, it’s all very complicated and not important. What’s important is that you can choose who will be the one to be given the honors.”

“If it’s set in stone then it may be best we go with our valedictorian.” She says, mostly thinking aloud.

“My, this is _very_ good tea.” Martin says after taking another sip. He hops from his chair, “Tell you what, there are still a few weeks before the War begins, and I need to make rounds to the other areas. How about I return a week from today and get a confirmation on your entrant? We can’t change that someone in the area will be a Master but we can change who it will be, you know. But, well, once the seals appear then your Master will be locked in. More or less.” He approaches the door, “Give it some thought. Oh, could you do me a solid and tell me where exactly you got this tea? I’d like to pick some up as a souvenir.”

 

**[Millennium Park, Chicago]**

 

Something about the Windy City really appeals to Juniper Boreas. She always liked areas where she could feel alone in a crowd and the decadent foods really hit the spot. She had finished her business there for about a month but had remained in the city for leisure.

“One good thing about it,” she says to herself, staring lazily at the clouds rolling by, “Don’t have to worry about money.”

“Oh? Pretty and loaded?” a local plops down nearby, “Talk about a catch.”

“Don’t bother. I’m too much of a free spirit to get tied down.” Juniper responds, “But I appreciate the flattery. Feel free to keep it coming.”

“Free spirit, huh?” He scoots a little closer, “You really have the air of it. Like anything goes with you.” He holds his hands up, mimicking framing a picture, “Yeah, I’ve got an eye for this sort of thing. Talk about natural charisma.”

“Anything goes, for sure. You trying to get in my pants?” she asks, opening one of her eyes to look at the guy. He averts his eyes at that prospect, “Well I’d be game.”

“Wha? Really?”

“I don’t have anything else to do and it’s really not like it’s even a big deal. Why not?”

 

When it was through with, for some reason the man felt even more drained than usual. As he struggled and failed to stay conscious, Juniper sighed as she got dressed.

“Just three. Guess that’s to be expected from someone who isn’t from a magus lineage.” She said to herself as she checked over her magic circuits. As she did so, she felt a strange and alien mana source, similar but distinct from a circuit, on her right hand. Upon examination, she saw the Command Seal etch itself into her skin.

“Huh. Gonna have to look into this.”

 

**[Luitgard Estate, Austria]**

 

“DARLING! DARLING, DARLING!” screams the matriarch of the family, hysterically running through the halls looking for her husband.

“What is it, dear?” he asks in response, stepping out of his quarters.

“Darling, it’s awful! It’s dreadful! It’s terrible! It’s dreadfully, terribly, awful!”

“Well, sweetie, what is so dreadfully, terribly awful?”

“Our beloved daughter has... Our beloved daughter has...”

 

Off in the ballroom, Simone, their young daughter of thirteen years is practicing dance with her instructor when all of a sudden the parents burst in the door, both equally mad. They’re screaming in terror but their words mask one another’s.

“Excuse me, father, mother, what appears to be the issue?” Simone asks.

“My dear!” the father grasps at Simone’s right hand and examines it carefully. As he sees the red marks having appeared, he becomes faint and gasps in horror, “Oh, say it isn’t so! Our beloved daughter! She’s merely a lamb, this is not the time for such an act!”

“Milord, Milady,” a butler enters the room, “It appears this is not the proper time, but you have a guest.”

“Oh, you’ve heard the news.” Martin says with a sigh, “I apologize that I was tardy. Turns out the calculations were off a bit.” He steps forward and bows to Simone, “You’ve truly achieved an honorable position, Lady Luitgard. A fanciful adventure will be in your near future, perhaps with a handsome knight in shining armor attending your side?”

“Young man!” the patriarch Luitgard stands and grabs Martin by the shoulder, his tone going from uncontrollable madness to anger, “Do you mean to say you have caused my daughter to be marked for the slaughter?”

“My good sir,” Martin replies, stammering a little bit, “Have you not heard to not shoot the messenger? I was only here to give your daughter the details.”

“Um, I do not mean to sound rude, but what exactly are you all referring to?” Simone asks.

“The Holy Grail War!” Martin’s nerves are strengthened when he gets the chance to start explaining, “You, my lady, have the chance of winning prestige and one omnipotent wish! Doesn’t that sound magnificent?”

 

“The Holy Grail War, I know little about it,” the father says, still enraged, “But I know that those marked for its entrance die. Do you think I’m going to send my beloved daughter off to that fate?” He lifts Martin up off the ground, “Get those marks off of my daughter, this instant!”

“Do you have another applicable candidate?” Martin asks, once again nervous, “The process is somewhat difficult but-“

“Absolutely not!” Simone speaks up. Her father drops Martin to the ground and gasps, looking upon her curiously. “Father, you say that people die in this War?”

“It’s a War. People die.” Martin says as he stands up, “However, Masters are not truly _guaranteed_ to die. If you’re careful, you’ll live. You have, oh, about a week and a half by my estimate, to prepare.” That timetable is dreadful for the Luitgard family. The parents, if they intended on accompanying her, would be unable to.

“What sort of noble would I be, then,” she says, “If I sent someone else into a dangerous situation merely to preserve myself?”

“Ah! Your daughter is quite perceptive, sir!” Martin tosses his hands out, “Indeed so! Lady Luitgard, embrace this as an opportunity! A chance to grow, see the lovely landscape of Italy, and build an experience you’ll never forget!”

“Simone, sweetie,” the mother clenches her daughter’s hand, “This is a serious decision.”

“There's one thing special about this War. If you back out, I can guarantee the results will be far less agreeable than if you fight. Someone in this city needs to enter the War one way or another.” Martin explains, “Doesn’t make a difference to me. A Master’s a Master.”

 

“I am certain it will work out.” Simone says, “After all, I hold the family’s Mystic Crest.”

The patriarch is brought to tears by his daughter’s conviction. He falls to his knees and looks her in the eye, “My dearest daughter, you truly grasp _noblesse oblige_ , you would willingly step forward rather than condemn one of your subjects instead. I will fully support your decision! Very well, it shall be a family effort!”

“No, daddy!” she shakes her head, “I was chosen, yes? This is for me to handle. Besides, do you not have more pressing matters on which you must attend?”

“My daughter, my precious daughter!” he says, “Oh, they grow up so fast! I’m so moved! I’m too moved, I can’t control my emotions any longer!” He turns to Martin and his tone becomes fiery, “You, on the other hand, boy!” He looms over the young man, “I swear to you, if even a single hair on my beloved daughter’s head is injured in this War, even the fires of Hell will seem lucid compared to the wrath I will inflict upon you!”

“I promise she’ll be fine, above all else!” Martin rapidly says in a panic while backing away to the door. He quickly exits the ballroom and turns around a corner to catch his breath. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Martin groans, “Such a brutish man. I might feel inclined to remain hands-off in terms of his daughter and just let whatever happens happen.”

 

**[Medina, Saudi Arabia]**

 

As the night fell, she once again sunk into the pool and stared at the moon. Aliah promised herself that she wouldn’t get upset. That was a promise, but promises aren’t always kept.

“The moon,” she says with a sigh, “It’s only bright because it reflects the sun’s light.” She narrows her gaze, finding that thought deplorable. The idea entering her mind makes her want to destroy the moon.

A sudden feeling creeps up her arm and she panics, flailing in the water for a little bit before she stops and calms down. Aliah looks at her right hand, where a glowing red mark appears. She blinks once or twice, not sure as to what it means. She gets out of the pool and hurries over to a penpad, “Under my own light,” she writes, “I have opened my path.”

 

**[Reier Institute, Germany]**

 

“And that’s about the gist of it.” Martin finishes explaining, “While anyone in the area could theoretically be a Master, I am truly hoping that I’ll have the consent of the Reier heir apparent.”

“That sounds wonderful.” The heir, Arad, says. He stands, looking at his watch. It’s time to feed the ‘family pet’, a juvenile wyvern. He holds his hand out and the dragon eats the food as if it were from its own mother. “Holy Grail War? You’ve got my interest. I don’t even really have a wish, but, oh, it sounds pretty fun.”

“Might be fun, but keep in mind this is a somewhat important decision.” Martin says. He seems nervous at the dragon licking at Arad’s hand, “If you aren’t careful, you might lose something.”

“Winfield, you don’t understand, do you?” the dragon finishes licking the scraps and returns to sleep as Arad pulls his hand out, “You know the Reier family’s specialty, don’t you? That means you know there’s not a single person more fitting to be a Master.” He steps closer. That act alone, due to the inherent danger of Arad’s body, causes Martin’s nerves to start to betray him, “I’ve already won this War. Get me my Command Seal.”

 

**[House of Rutherfords, England]**

 

It’s a solemn dinnertime, the same as always. The family has filled out around the table, and as usual there is the spot for the daughter left vacant. Since there’s not often much discussion happening, they all paused when they heard clomping down the hall and turned to the door. Not surprising anyone, their second daughter Erin kicks in the door smiling ear to ear.

“Please try and be more ladylike.” Her father sighs, as if he’s used to this sort of attitude.

“Goodness me, Erin,” her elder sister Dana, heiress of the family, wipes her lips, “If you really want to act so uncouthly then it may be a good idea to just vacate the premises.”

“Keep taking that tone, sis!” Erin steps up and kicks her foot up onto one of the chairs. She pulls up her sleeve and shows a red marking on her shoulder, “Just know that I’m not using my wish on you!”

Dana raises an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Wish?” she turns to her father, then to her mother, “Did you get our parent’s permission for your tattoo?”

“It ain’t a tattoo!” Erin shouts back, “Command Seal! Holy Grail War! Guess who’s a Master and who’s not?” She flexes her bicep, “Yeah, Dana Rutherford isn’t worthy, it’s all Erin!”

“Holy Grail War?” Dana sighs, ”Is this some sort of game you’ve just gotten into?”

“No, dummy! It’s a serious magic ritual!” Erin slaps the table a couple times, “How have you not heard of it?!” she says, even though she had to research the strange red tattoo herself.

 

“Girls, stop bickering.” Their mother speaks out.

“Indeed, it’s disturbing my appetite.” The father says, “Dana, you know better than to taunt your sister. Erin,” he chooses his next words carefully, “You seem very excited at the prospect of the Grail War.” He smiles, “If that is what you wish to spend your summer on, then I’ll make arrangements.”

“Hear that, Dana?” Erin leans in, “I’m going on a vacation and get to spend it with a legendary hero. You mad? Oh! Maybe I’ll summon Conall Cernach and we will fall in love and have a night of passiona-“

“Don’t bring your stupid fantasies to me.” Dana flicks Erin on the nose. Clearly the last sentence got under her skin. “Have fun wasting your summer on some stupid game. Must be good having no obligations.”

“It is!”

With that, Erin rushes out of the dining room. Dana sighs as she rubs the bridge of her nose.

 

As she’s about to go out running, unable to stay still from the pent-up excitement, Erin opens the door and sees a boy about her age about to knock.

“Oh. Hello.” Marin says with a bow, “Your timing is impeccable. I was about to inform you of,” he stops himself short, “Or it appears you already know.”

“Eh?”

“Your Command Seal. War’s in ten days. Get to Florence by that time.” Martin explains. Something about Erin’s appearance makes him not want to speak any further. It is possibly her attire, with her decision to dress specifically looking like a punk, “That is all.”

Erin holds a hand up to her shoulder. Her sleeve had been pulled down. How did that boy know about her Command Seal, she wondered.

As he readies to get on his next plane, Martin drums his fingers across his knuckles. He’s heard that the last three Command Seals have already appeared on others, which means they’re probably going to get the word to arrive at Florence soon anyway. With that in mind, there’s just the matter of Atlas.

 

**[Atlas Academy, Egypt]**

 

The two friends had made arrangements to play billiards, and play billiards they shall. What Graham didn’t think was that it would be under this pretense that they would have a truly serious conversation.

“There have been rumors going around,” Hugo says as he lines up a shot, “Something about a Grail War? Some kid predicted the one in London last year and now the one in Italy is going through or something?”

“The rumors are true,” Graham says as Hugo hits a striped ball into the pocket and continues, “I was contacted by Vice-Director Eltnam and she says she wants me to represent the academy.”

“Why you?” Hugo replies, “You aren’t exactly what I picture as a fighter. Have you even punched someone before?”

“Resorting to violence like a barbarian? Of course I wouldn’t.” he replies, “But I’m not the one who will be attacking, now am I?”

“You missed my point.” Hugo says as he misses, “Your personality just isn’t cut out for a War. You’re too absent-minded and way too soft.”

“That’s not true, you know.” Graham replies, “I have at least three hundred recipes committed to memory. I can remember stuff that’s important.”

Hugo rolls his eyes, “You know how I do laundry every Sunday? How about the time when I was out of town to see my parents and how you forgot?”

“So I had to wear the same underwear two days in a row, hardly the end of the world.” Graham shrugs, chalking his cue, “I was the only one affected by it, so it’s no biggie.”

“How about the time you nearly burnt your eyebrows off because you rounded too few significant digits?”

“A lesson for the next time. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Then I’ll keep it simple.” Hugo shrugs, “Are you currently stripes or solids?”

 

“Hm.” Graham thinks. He turns the cue, as if to direct his shot towards a striped ball.

“You’re already out.” Hugo says. He pats Graham on the shoulder, “Listen, I bring this up because I know you’re way better off here than there. Let me take your place. I may not be much, but no offense, I think my chances are better.”

“Absolutely not!” Graham turns to him, “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t want to put you out for my sake. Especially not if it’s a scenario where you could be killed. I can’t have that on my conscience.”

“And you think I want your blood on my conscience? Think pragmatically, if you die when I could've prevented it, it'll weigh a lot more on me than my death would on you.” Hugo says as Graham takes a shot.

"Quite a grim sentiment." Graham says. He's watching the balls bounce around as none of them sink into a hole. "But I can't argue with it."

“Even if you resent me for it, I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

 

“Well,” Graham sighs as he reconsiders, “Research is currently in a standstill but I guess there’s always the possibility of something new coming up. It’d be a waste of time if that happened and I was out of the area. It would be a waste of my precious time to head out to play some silly game, wouldn't it?" 

“Don’t waste food or your life.” Hugo says, “You know who told us that. Listen, you have to make the most of what you’ve got. Here in Atlas, that’s the surest way for you to do that.” He smiles at Graham, “Meanwhile, I’ll cover for you. It’ll be a two-pronged attack. See, I don’t really have a wish to call my own, so if I manage to pull it off and I haven’t thought of anything, hey, I could use it to make your dream come true.”

“Hugo, would you really go that far?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Hugo says, “It’s kinda selfish. Saving my only buddy, you know. It’s sorta like, what’s the word, nepotism?” He laughs, “You might say that my motivation’s misguided.”

“Well, you seem rather determined to go fight.” Graham says, “I’m not the type who would hold someone back from doing something they truly desire.” He holds up his fist, “Just come back in one piece or I’ll never forgive you.”

“And you hold yourself together until I get back,” Hugo bumps Graham’s fist, “I won’t be able to win if I’m worried about you keeling over and dying because I wasn’t here.”

 

**[Florence, Italy]**

 

“Two weeks notice is up,” Christine says, popping her head into the manager’s office, “It’s been a blast but I got my next job starting up once the weekend’s over.”

“I know you told me it’d be like this,” the manager says with a sigh, “But it’ll be a real shame to lose a hard worker like you. You sure you don’t want to stick around? Keep it on the down-low but I might be inclined to give you a little raise.”

“Money isn’t important, I’m just interested in finding what I really want to do.” Christine says as she removes her name tag and puts in on the desk, “I liked this job but I need, you know, some sort of spark of real, genuine passion.”

“You’re probably not going to find it in unskilled labor, you know.” the manager says, “Maybe you should try and get some apprenticeships.”

“Never thought of that. I’ll give it a go. Thanks for the advice, boss.”

“I wish you good luck.” he looks over at her, “Hold on. Chris, what happened to your hand?”

“Hm?” she raises her right hand and examines it, a red mark having appeared there without her noticing, “Freaky. I didn’t feel anything.” Her first instinct is to sniff at it, then give it a lick when it doesn’t seem to respond. “It’s not blood.”

“Are you okay?”

“Maybe I’ll go to a hospital and get it examined.” she says, “But it’s not a rash and it’s not a wound. I’m not gonna sweat it too much.” With a final handshake, she finishes her hours and leaves the store. Next time she shows up she’ll just be a customer.

 

When she steps out, she sees a teenager loitering in the parking lot, dressed fairly well in a baby blue dress shirt and black pants. He turns and waves her over.

“Guess I was too late here.” the boy says with a sigh, “Not even a single circuit.” He hands her a small satchel, “I’m feeling generous, so take this.” She does so, assuming he’s just some pretentious kid trying to earn good karma by tossing pennies at ‘low-class’ people, but she’s not one to turn down free money. “I recommend you read the contents carefully as soon as possible. And try to take care of yourself.”

 

He walks across the parking lot and enters a limousine. Once he’s inside, Martin scowls, “I’ll have to make a note to get a team to gather participants for the next War. Out of the seven entrants, I’m only certain that one of them is going to be any good.”

Martin’s complaints fall into the ears of a serious-looking middle-aged man who isn’t interested in them but still gives the Winfield boy his full attention.

“I guess that’s why we have you, though. For the sake of my research, you’ll make sure that the Masters don’t die before I gather sufficient data, yes?” 

“I can’t make any promises.” he says, “But my duty is to work as your assistant, so if that’s what you’re aiming for then so be it.”

 

\----------

 

While they cannot accompany Simone, at least the Luitgard parents have arranged to let her stay with another mage family (one they are on good terms with) for the duration of the war, along with their head butler Klaus. They are confident that she will be in a comfortable position.

Simone sat in the tea room with her arms crossed, pouting. She hadn’t even touched her tea or snacks, leaving the cup cold and wasted.

“Mistress, please understand,” Klaus says as he removes the tray from the table, “Your parents love you very much and that is why they want you to be safe.”

“Oh, Klaus, I know,” Simone says with a sigh, unable to stay cranky. The previous anger was forced but the current disappointment isn't. “But I wish they would have more faith in me. I was selected as a Master, correct? That says to me that I am one who is deemed worthy to fight for the Holy Grail.”

“You refused professional help, mistress,” Klaus reminds her, “I am here only to ensure that nothing bad happens to you.”

“I am deeply appreciative of that,” she replies, “However, is it not true that daddy told you to not let me bear witness to the War? His intent was to have you be the de facto Master in my place. That defeats the purpose of my being chosen.”

 

Klaus clears his throat. “That is true.” He says, “Mistress, keep in mind that your orders hold a similar weight to those of your fathers.” Klaus hears no response but he got Simone’s attention, “I wish for you to be content, so if you promise to keep it between us, I will allow you to more directly participate in this War on two conditions. The first is that you will share your information and strategy with me, simply as something of a safety net. The second, and this is important, is that you will promise me that if your life is ever in danger you will preserve it no matter the cost.”

Simone smiles to Klaus. It was her only desire when the opportunity presented itself. She wanted to be able to stretch her wings beyond the Luitgard estate and see something new. It’s a frightening step, however, and not one she wanted to take alone.

 

\----------

 

“Yeah. My sleep schedule is fine.” Hugo speaks with Graham on the phone, carrying a fairly sizeable bag from a local bakery, “How’s your fridge looking? You still cooking for two out of habit or have you scaled down? … Good to know. … Yeah. Luck would really be on my side if the stage were Paris, huh? … No, I’m not complaining. Italy’s fine.”

 

Juniper walks down another side street with her own bag. She wasn’t here to act like a tourist, and stomach problems from indulging too much isn’t in her best interest. Nothing wrong with eating at McDonald’s, she says. Food’s sub-par but it’s edible anywhere in the world.

 

“In fact, you called me just as I was about to try my first authentic, fresh, home-made cannoli.” The street was a little off the beaten path and while the bakery is bustling, someone leaving the bakery would be fairly noticeable. Hugo is somewhat unrestrained, since despite being on the phone he is talking with someone with whom he was very open, “Uh, no, I haven’t had my meal yet. … Nothing wrong with it every now and again!”

 

“Preppies.” Juniper says under her breath. She feels inclined to turn and go in the other direction, but instead plops down on a bench in the middle of the road. She doesn’t want to bother with finding a less populated area where she can eat. Besides, part of her takes a sense of smug satisfaction in looking down at spoiled rich folk.

 

“Because you called. I’m not going to put pastries ahead of you. … Okay. Thanks for that. Call you later.” Hugo hangs up and can’t contain his excitement as he reaches into the bag and extracts the first cannoli. As he’s about to take a bite he notices the woman on the bench watching him. He sharpens his expression and puts the pastry back in the back, “It’s not polite to stare, Miss.” He says in Italian. 

“You were being rather loud.” she says in English, having heard him speaking it with his friend, “Besides, it’s a public area. Why would you even mind? Maybe I’m just admiring a handsome young man.”

She’s being coy. Even if he were handsome, any attraction Juniper might have toward Hugo is negated by his pretentiousness, at least from where she’s sitting. It isn’t an entirely inaccurate prediction. He was mostly embarrassed to have been seen looking like an excited child for the sweets he just bought.

“Shake it off, Braddock,” he murmurs to himself. Hugo picks up the bags and walks down the street the other way. Juniper nods, content that she ‘won’ that encounter.

 

\----------

 

Compared to London’s weather, anywhere would look like a luxurious resort but a city like Florence takes Erin by surprise at just how different the world is. She stretches her whole body out after stepping out of the airport and lets loose a contented sigh.

“Wow! Talk about a paradigm shift!” her eyes are unsure where to look exactly. She immediately runs to a kiosk covered with pamphlets of local areas and takes a moment to readjust her brain to Italian. “Excuse me,” she asks, “This is my first time visiting here. I’m really amazed at how pretty the area is. What’s the hotel with the best view of the city?”

 

\----------

 

In a small coffee shop by the river, Arad sat back in his chair, trying in vain to hold his sweat back. The heat, that’s one thing, but the humidity was killing him. Only by remaining near a body of water was he able to feel comfortable. That, he thinks, is reason to feel good about his decision to show up to the War’s setting early. It gives him time to adapt to the environment.

As he’s busy thinking over his strategy for the War, he keeps getting distracted by some American tourists being incredibly loud across the way. While he wants to pay them no mind, their constant chatter rapidly gets on his nerves. He grits his teeth. _"If the Winfield brat could alter the people chosen as Masters,”_ thinks Arad, " _Why could he not alter the stage on which the War would be fought? Having to keep non-magical plebeians from witnessing this combat will only be trouble.”_

 

\----------

 

One whose funds are ultimately more sparse than most magus families has little room to spend on frivolities even in a Grail War. To that end, Aliah has picked up lodging in a cheap hotel. No television, no air conditioning and only one bed. No matter, she wasn’t here for relaxation anyway. Those sort of things would only prove to be distractions.

As she started to unpack her luggage, there was a knock at the door. Strange. She was certain that there was a “Do Not Disturb” sign up. The knock returns shortly, and while she tries to ignore it, it just keeps persisting.

After a few minutes, Aliah caves and goes to see whoever is knocking at the door.

 

“Now, I didn’t do anything to earn the cold shoulder, have I?” Martin asks. He leans to his left to try and get a glimpse of Aliah’s right hand, “If I’m correct, you are the seventh Master?”

“And who might you be?”

“Martin Winfield, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance miss…?” She doesn’t even answer, she just closes the door. Martin sighs. "Rude. Small victory: I’ve got a picture of the seventh Master in my mind’s eye.”

 

“Winfield, huh?” Aliah says to herself, starting to put her clothes in the dresser. She saw his right hand was blank and assumes he's just some snob from a big family who is intending on watching the War for entertainment.

 

“Well then,” Martin puts his hands in his pockets and starts to walk down the street. He quickly meets up with the older man who seems to be highly worried. This hotel is, after all, in a low-income neighborhood so Martin may run into some less than agreeable company here. “It’s about time. Let’s return to the Church. The pieces are all in place, so let’s see if anyone wants to take initiative and summon their Servant ahead of schedule.”

 

\----------

 

Christine had run down to the supermarket to get a small serving of strawberry ice cream to reward herself. As she rests in her apartment, she watches television as she eats. When the commercials come up, she remembers something. The gift that stranger gave her before. 

“It’s probably not a good idea to accept things from shady folks,” Christine says to herself, “But strangers are more often than not nice people.” At least, she wishes that were the case. It'd be a lot happier of a world in that scenario. She opens the package and inside finds a small wad of bills, “Woah! Definitely nicer than expected.” She tips it over to see if there are any other contents to empty out, “Am I being played? Like, this isn’t a drug mule thing or anything, is it?”

Doing so causes three small pieces of paper to drop out of the package. Christine raises an eyebrow out of curiosity. On one of the pieces, she finds a drawing of a complicated runic circle, and on the other some English text. The last one is written in Italian and contains a bunch of nonsense about some Holy Grail War, Servants and Masters, Heroic Spirits. Christine sees it as just a bunch of nerd talk.

 

“Freaky.” she says, “Let me guess, it’s guerilla marketing for some video game or something?” She places the paper on the floor in front of her, “Really don’t have the time for that. But talk about attention to detail.” she looks at the second paper, “Why is it in English?” Come to think of it, she hasn’t traveled that much at all. In middle school, she promised herself that once she graduated she’d see the world but that dream seemed to not have come true. Was her English even still sharp enough? It was just an compulsion, but looking at the note strangely made her want to read it aloud.

 

\----------

 

“Hm, it’s about time,” Hugo said as he looked at his watch, putting the rest of his pastries in the fridge for later. “I think.”

Quickly, he double checks the clock. Due to the time zone shift, now is when his mana should be at its peak, biologically speaking, until his body readjusts. It's only one hour so it shouldn't be long. He steps into his bedroom, where he spent about half the day drawing up the summoning circle on parchments with ink from crushed gemstones that Graham provided him. His priority is to get out of this War alive. He can spare no expense to ensure that he gets a strong Servant.

 

\----------

 

“Damned humidity.” Arad barely manages to work up the willpower to avoid punching a hole in his wall as he pumps up the air conditioning and fans himself, “I guess I could start the process to get my Servant to take my mind off of it.”

While there is a definite benefit to not summoning a Servant until the War’s officially begun, most certainly Arad has no real downsides to doing it now. The time spent learning his Servant’s strengths and weaknesses would definitely make up for the ultimately negligible mana drains over the week.

 

\----------

 

“Woah! What a view!” Erin can see the entire city from the hotel’s balcony, “I’ll have to thank the airport dudes after this is over.” She holds her arms out, “I hope whoever I get is good humored. I feel like I’m flying!”

She steps back into the hotel and falls into one of the seats, “Wonder how good the food is here? Hope it isn’t too good or I’ll never go back home.” Her mood suddenly sours when she thinks that her family probably wouldn’t really care one way or the other. It flips back to excitement when she thinks more about the upcoming battles.

“Right! I’ll get some room service and I’ll get the Servant summoned! Get a head start on everyone else!”

 

\----------

 

It would definitely have shocked Erin to learn that another Grail War participant was staying in the same hotel but for entirely different reasons. Like she said, one could see the entire city from the balcony. On the other hand, Erin simply took any vacant room while Juniper went out of her way to determine which room would give her the vantage point over the greatest amount of distance, pointing towards area of Florence with more leylines.

Once she had finished eating, she set everything up, taking extra precautions. The strongest Servant, Saber, the one who historically is the most likely to make it to the end of the Grail War. That is her aim. On the other hand, Juniper’s quarters would make Archer an ideal candidate as well. Either way, the Knight Classes are the strongest, so that’s what the extra preparations are for. To guarantee that one of them will be in her control.

Martin was actually quite happy to oblige. When he had gone to meet up with her earlier, she asked about that and got some extra details that would confirm her ability to summon a Knight. Those who rest on their laurels will fall behind. That’s what Juniper believes. If the three Knights just happen to be summoned before the War begins, she’ll be at a disadvantage and since she can prevent it due to Winfield’s assistance, now’s the best time to summon.

 

\----------

 

There’s little doubt in her mind that not having the budget for a high-end estate would be putting Aliah at a disadvantage. To make up for that, she intended on summoning sooner rather than later. As one would expect from an ancient city, all the high-end areas sit under leylines and the slummier parts have less mana around them. This is why Aliah wants to summon sooner rather than later. When the War gets closer, these areas will have more eyes on them. Getting to a secluded area already proved to be something of a hassle.

She waits until the sun sets and the park is emptied to take out a pocket knife and begin to carve the inscriptions in the dirt. It takes longer but it will be easier to cover once she’s through, and using the land itself will give some extra weight to her ritual.

 

\----------

 

Simone opens up the workshop that looks like it hasn’t been touched in ages. The heavy door that she barely manages to force open kicks up dust as the weight provides enough momentum for the door to swing fully open. The particles of dust would have induced a coughing fit in the Luitgard heiress had Klaus not placed a handkerchief over her face when he saw it. She turns her head slightly and he understands. When the dust settles, Klaus steps back.

“Apparently,” Klaus explains, “The heir of the family prefers to not use their workshop.” 

“It’s cluttered, but it looks marvelous.” Simone says, “I can not see why one would not wish to use such a wonderful arrangement.”

“Fortunate for us, Mistress.” Klaus hands her the handkerchief and Simone covers her mouth as he begins to clear the dust from the floor using his own natural magic of wind. The particles are kicked up into the air, which is then compressed into a tiny ball which Klaus packs into a trash can. “This room appears to have very high concentrations of prana due to its position under the leyline and its lack of use. I have little doubt that we will summon the strongest Servant with these circumstances.”

“Splendid!” Simone claps her hands together. She rubs the room’s walls caringly, “Oh, but I feel bad for the room having to be in a state of such disrepair. It is bittersweet that the neglect of others is something that will be of benefit to me.”

“Now, Mistress, if you will,” Klaus searches the room for something to start drawing the summoning circle, “You are keeping the catalyst in your quarters, yes? While you begin the preparations,” he hands her a vial of ink that he finds on a desk and a pen, “I will retrieve it for you.”

 

\----------

 

“Let’s see here, let’s see here,” Christine looks at the note, “‘Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.’” As soon as she starts reading, the circle on the paper lights up. “Woah!” She leaps back, “Freaky! Freaky cool! Technology these days must be something else!” She looks back at the paper and decides to keep reading to see what else happens.

 

\----------

 

“Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close.” Erin reads out. She double checks the next words to make sure she’s got them memorized.

 

\----------

 

“Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.” Arad chants, “I announce. Thy body shall be under my command, my fate shall be determined by thy sword.”

 

\----------

 

“Follow the call of the Holy Grail,” Hugo crushes the last gem with his hand and sprinkling it over the glowing circle, “If thou woudlst obey this mind and this reason, then answer my call.”

 

\----------

 

“Make an oath here,” Aliah chants through the kicking up winds, “I am the one who shall become the virtue of all Heaven. I am the one who shall lay out the evil of all Hell.”

 

\----------

 

“Thou art Seven Heavens clad in Three Great Words,” Juniper chants. She and Erin may be close to one another, but the vast amount of mana surrounding each of them makes it impossible for either to sense the rituals being performed.

 

\----------

 

“Emerge from the ring of control, guardian of balance!” Simone finishes chanting. Klaus is honestly surprised at her ability to retain her composure in such a scenario, without even his being by her side to keep her on her feet in case the ritual is too much.

 

The chant ends, and the seven summoning circles flash with a bright light. Before each of the Masters stands their Servants.

 

He is a handsome young man whose face belies his persona. Serious, noble, and determined. Simply looking upon his visage one could tell he was a true Hero. Bearing beautiful silver and red armor and an artistically crafted yet clearly functional blade in right hand, shield on the left.

 

“I ask of you,” Saber speaks, “Are you my Master?”


	2. The First Day

“I ask of you,” says Saber, “Are you my Master?”

 

His brilliance stunned Simone. Simply gazing at his handsome, youthful face and beautiful golden locks, she was exactly what she pictured at the thought of a knight in shining armor. The appearance alone gives her reason to blush, mouth agape.

 

“Hello?” He waves his hand in front of her face, then he looks at Klaus inquisitively. The butler shakes his head and points to Simone to indicate that she is indeed the Master.  
“Oh! Pardon me!” Simone snaps back into the moment. She curtsies, “Good day, my name is Simone Luitgard. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. What, pray tell, is the name of my Knight?”

 

“My class is Saber, that I can assure. As for my name, well, that is unimportant. A knight I am, that is the truly relevant information.” he says.

“Madame, do you not already know your Servant’s identity?” Klaus asks, “That was the purpose of the catalyst.”  
“Dear me, that has slipped my mind.” Simone gasps, “I was too caught up in my excitement. Thank you, Klaus.”

“So, miss,” Saber says, “Do you prefer ‘Simone’, ‘Miss Luitgard’, or some other title?”

“Oh my, um,” Simone thinks, “Just use whatever you feel is appropriate.”

“Understood.” Saber takes a knee and extends his hand. Simone places her right hand in his and he pulls it close, kissing it tenderly, “I promise on my honor that no matter what comes, no harm shall fall upon you, Lady Simone.”

“Oh, oh, oh my.” Simone starts to feel lightheaded so much blood is rushing to her cheeks. Klaus runs to the other side of the hall.

 

“Madame, perhaps we should open a window.” he does so, then back to her side, “And perhaps we were too hasty in the summoning. You skipped your afternoon tea, yes? Are you feeling faint? Is the time zone difference causing weariness? Do you wish to retire?”

“Klaus, I am fine,” Simone says with a smile, as Saber stands. “I was merely taken aback at the splendor of my knight. It almost is exactly like a fairy tale.”

“I wish to not cause misconceptions.” Saber says, “So let me state this clearly: while I do care for you, Lady Simone, as a Servant any romantic endeavors I could take would be ephemeral. Do not take this as an insult, my Lady, but merely a warning to not become too attached.”

“I understand that much.” Simone says, “But it being temporary is part of what makes it so romantic, would you not agree?” she bashfully raises a hand to her mouth and lowers her head, “Saber, may I indulge myself tonight and have you carry me to the balcony where we might speak further?”

Saber bows, “As you wish.”

 

\----------

 

Hugo was met by a thin, muscular man. He wears a traditional Chinese robe with a cape with his hair tied into a ponytail. As if servitude were his second nature, his Servant materializes kneeling.

 

“Servant, Archer. My Lord,” he says, “My body shall be your shield. I believe that you shall be worthy of my devotion.”

 

“Archer, is it?” Hugo chuckles. He’d heard the majority of Archers were selfish. This sort of Heroic Spirit definitely seems to break that mold. He nods, “Stand, Archer.” And with that command, Archer does so.

 

“I feel like you’ll be a good match for me.” Hugo says, “Well, as Graham is wont to do, why don’t we get acquainted through a meal? What do you like?”

“I shall enjoy whatever you desire.” Archer says calmly. He clears his throat, “But I specialize in soups.” It seems from his tone that he wants that. “If you wish for me to do so, I can cook.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Hugo rolls his sleeves up, “Cooking’s one of my hobbies. I don’t even get the chance to do it solo very much, but I like working alone from time to time.” He looks in his fridge and starts getting out ingredients, “A soup, then, huh? Well, it won’t be as good as his but I’ll see what I can do.”

 

In about twenty minutes Hugo places a bowl of bright red liquid in front of Archer along with some rolls of bread.

“It smells peculiar. I am not familiar with this type of soup. Spicy?” Archer asks.

“No, it’s very mild.” Hugo starts to eat, “It’s tomato. Very fresh.” Archer takes a spoonful and first seems confused, but he enjoys the flavor regardless so he keeps eating. “I suppose I’ll be up front with you, Archer. What is your wish?”

“That is obvious.” Archer says, “The greatest honor I could receive would be the privilege of serving my country once again.”

“Hmm, there isn’t really much opportunity a fighter could offer a country these days.” Hugo says, “Warfare nowadays is conducted with money.”

“However, a laborer is always needed, yes? That would be enough.” Archer gets lost in a dreamy state, thinking of his life if he got his wish. He looks at Hugo, “If I may be so bold, what about you, Master?”  
“I don’t really have a wish of my own.” Hugo says. Archer appears confused. “But like you, there’s someone who I would be honored to serve. Someone whose wish I want to make come true.”

Archer smiles and takes his soup bowl in hand to drink straight from it like a cup. After a long slurp he places the bowl back on the table, very contented with the answer.

“Are you still hungry?” Hugo asks, “How do you feel about sweets?”  
“While I pride myself on self-control, I do have some weak spots, admittedly.” Archer says, “Sugars are one of them.”

Hugo laughs. “I think you and I will get along just fine.”

 

\----------

 

“Ooo… Ooooh…”

 

The Servant summoned by Arad is clearly Berserker. He is a massive man, the size of at least two adults. His entire body is covered in armor crafted to give the appearance of a mighty bird, shining like the sun. The radiance is so great that it noticeably warms up the room around him. Had the windows not been covered up, the summoning would have caused a stir. It would have created so much light that the street outside would look as if it were the middle of the day.

 

“You truly are the Servant one as great as I would summon.” Arad says with a smirk, “Berserker, I presume.”

 

“Rrrrrrrrgh….”

 

“Not very talkative.” Arad says, “Fine. Neither am I.” He raises his right hand to display his Command Seals, “Though your mind is clouded, surely you understand this: I am the strongest Magus in this entire War. Listen to my commands, and your wish will come true.”

 

“Oooooooooh…. Rrrrrrrrgh...”

 

\----------

 

The light and winds did not dissuade Christine from continuing to read out the chant. With modern technology, even a regular human could have a degree of disbelief in the existence of magic when seeing it in front of them. What she couldn’t deny, though, was circle expanding to allow her Servant to appear.

 

He is a tall man of dark complexion, dressed in regal and lightweight clothes in earthy reds and browns. He carries an air of elegance at the same time as one that strikes Christine as an unpredictable man.

 

“Good evening,” he speaks, “How are you?”

 

“Freaky!” Christine backs away, “Hologram, or what?”

 

“Not a hologram, miss,” he draws a rapier and holds it to her cheek, “If you want proof, I could make you bleed. Just a touch.”

“Hii!”

“A joke! A joke, and nothing more! I wouldn’t be so quick to violence!” He swings his sword around and sheathes it, “My, quite the touchy one. Make one little joke and it looks like her heart’s about to fly out of her throat.”

 

He waits, counting off ten seconds while Christine hyperventilates, before speaking again.

“Do you not know what’s going on here, miss?” Christine shakes her head, “Hm. Well, we’re going to have to change that, won’t we? For starters, why don’t we get our names down?”

 

He extends his hand, “Well, my name being revealed would be a disadvantage, especially if you don’t know what’s going on. So you can just call me Rider.”

 

\----------

 

All the lights in Erin’s whole floor go out for approximately four seconds as her Servant materializes in front of her in a flash of lightning. He’s an adult, but his body is very petite. He’s dressed in old Japanese garments with a wild mane of white hair.

 

“Rockin’!” the Servant shouts, “Been a long time coming but here we are! Nice to meet ya!” He bows deeply but in a casual manner, “Class is Assassin! Hope for some great things!”

 

“Assassin?” Erin looks confused, especially at his grandiosity given that apparent class. She shakes it off. “Putting that aside, it looks like your style is right up my alley.” She bows back to him, “I’m your Master, Erin Rutherford. Let’s have a good time and win this war, m’kay?”

 

“Order two is assured! Order one, I’ll do my best!”

 

\----------

 

Elsewhere in the building, Juniper takes one look at the Servant who appeared before her and looks somewhat perturbed. He’s holding a jousting lance in his hand, dressed in heavy armor with a green tabard. He has short, curly blonde hair and an expression that appears like that of a simple man at first glance but shows his calculating side underneath.

 

Lancer was the only of the three knights she was hoping to not get, and as luck would have it, that seems to have been what she got.

 

He doesn’t fail to catch on this look he’s received and scoffs. “Master, you look disappointed. Do you not know who you’ve summoned?” He crosses his arms, “You’ve summoned the greatest knight to ever grace Europe. My feats are that of legend. No, that would be underselling myself. Even my lesser feats are probably household names.”

 

“I’ll take you up on that.” Juniper says, “I’ll have you know that I only want to win this battle and do it quickly and easily.”

 

She steps to her balcony, “Why don’t you prove that to me?” She points out over the balcony, “Are your eyes as sharp as an Archer’s?”

“Undoubtedly.” Lancer walks next to her and points to a building on the edge of the city, “I can count the bricks on that building over there.”

Now, Juniper did not know that an Archer’s sight would be much more acute but that feat alone is more than adequate for her needs. She crosses her arms, “Okay, then, we’ll start the operations tonight. First stage is preparation. When I sleep, I want you to keep your eyes looking over this balcony for any signs that we could locate another Master.”

“You’re assuming the War starts tonight.” Lancer says.

“I’m not, really.” Juniper walks back into her room and starts to get changed to sleep. The summoning ritual really wore her out. “Before you can spot something that’s amiss, you need a comparison to what it’s like when everything’s doing fine. So do just that. Until the War starts, familiarize yourself with that half of the city. We’ll explore the other half in the daytime.”

“No rest?” Lancer asks.

“Do you need it?”

“Absolutely not. I never missed a single vigil after my knighting, and that was in life. As a Servant, sleep is but a luxury, not a necessity.”

 

\----------

 

The forest trees shake and birds fly away from the mere feeling of the mana around them. Aliah herself is compelled by her instincts to turn and run, as the moment she summoned her Servant, an immense feeling of dread washed over her as if a beast started breathing down her neck.

 

The Servant is a woman, incredibly lanky as if she hasn’t rested in years. She’s hunched over and the moment she appears lets loose a blood-curdling scream. She looks all around her and nervously spitting out some indiscernible words starts to build a hut with the dirt in the ground.

 

“Excuse me.” Aliah clears her throat, “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself?”

 

“No good! No time! I can’t waste time!” the Servant replies, “Have to appease them, have to appease them, they’ll kill you, they’ll kill everyone else, they’ll kill me!” The dirt sinks under her nails and as she tries to wipe the tears from her face she only spreads the dirt there, “There’s no stopping it!”

 

“Maybe you should tell me what you need to-”

“A territory! I need my territory! Take me to a place where I can be at peace at least somewhat!”

 

Aliah quickly rushes back to the hotel and once in her room, the Servant appears to have calmed down somewhat. She sighs contentedly and sits down in one of the chairs, not having cleaned her face just yet.

“There are quite a lot of people in these quarters. Are you nobility?” she asks, her attitude completely altered from before.

“The exact opposite. This is a cheap dive, the people are employees or other people as poor as I am.”

“Employees, are they? I guess I won’t feel as bad about it, then.”

Aliah is confused and looks out the window. She sees the workers at the hotel busily working as if it were the middle of the day, painting, installing new doors, and doing other simple alterations to the hotel.

 

“This ability,” Aliah turns to her Servant, “I take it you’re Caster, then?”

“One of them has whispered it into my ear. Saying, ‘You are Caster. No longer use your real name. If you do, you shall be punished.’” she says, “So I would say that’s a yes.”

“What was your earlier outburst about?”

“You don’t understand, do you?” Caster stands and puts her hands on Aliah’s shoulders. Suddenly she’s back into hysterics, “They won’t stop until me and everyone I love are dead! Expanding my territory and turning it into their playground! That is the only way to stave off their curse! Master, promise me that you will not force me to leave the safety of these quarters!”

“I, uh…”

“ **Promise me!** ”

“I promise!” Aliah replies. Caster calms down and falls back into her seat. “But, Caster, you won’t be able to win this War unless you can kill the other Masters or Servants.”

“The War? What War?” Caster asks. She turns, as if addressing a different speaker, “Holy Grail War? I’ve heard of the Holy Grail, but that’s nowhere near my house.” She turns again, “You mean it’s not the same Grail of legend.”

“One omnipotent wish, given to whoever is the last standing of the Seven Servants.” Aliah explains.

“Wish? A wish?” Caster leaps off the seat and pushes Aliah against the wall, “In that case! We must be the ones to win!” Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates, “If it truly is all-powerful then it should finally be able to appease them!”

“But Caster, how will you win if you can’t leave your territory?”

“Master, that is obvious,” Caster grins from ear to ear, her face contorting into something almost inhuman in nature. As she does so, the walls around the two begin to melt and as the wallpaper falls to the ground it leaves in its place gun after gun, “I cannot leave, so you merely must lure them to me.”

 

\----------

 

The Church is the sole sanctum in the Holy Grail War. It’s a neutral ground where any who would hope to start hostilities would face the full wrath of the Catholic Church’s strength, and being in Italy that would be even more solid of a reason to be dissuaded from attacking.

 

As such, it is the perfect place for Martin Winfield to observe the War from. He had set up a computer network, being a magus who is more open to that sort of practice. Each Master has a file tracking their data as well as a comprehensive map of locations and the entire setup is gathering data automatically.

 

“And one more makes seven.” Martin says, “Hm. Interesting. It appears they’ve all been summoned ahead of schedule.”

“Does that mean we can bump the schedule ahead one day?” his companion asks.

“Let’s not be too hasty, de Clerk. I’d rather not need to place myself before them now that they can pose a very real danger to me.” Martin says. He turns to the man and straightens his glasses, “Besides, there is no such thing as having too much data. If two Masters meet and choose to fight before the formal start of the War, then more power to them. However, I’m from now on I’m going to take a hands-off approach.” He turns back to the monitors, “If you want to spread the news then be my guest.”

De Clerk frowns and steps back. “I’m going to deal with this. The sooner we begin, the sooner we’ll end.”

 

\---------- DAY 1 ----------

 

Simone was unsure as to what exactly she should do now that she had summoned Saber, but came to the conclusion that exploration wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Typically her chauffeur, Klaus merely accompanies the two due to the lack of vehicular focus on the streets of the city.

 

“Hoh?” Saber looks around. He’s been provided a dress shirt and pants, semi-casual. Klaus is a little larger than him so the ensemble is slightly baggy. “To be honest, it doesn’t seem very different from when I was alive. What year did you say it was?”

“It is the twenty-first century,” Simone says, “Quite a long time, true, but in comparison with other Heroic Spirits it may not be as dramatic a change.”

“Florence itself prides itself on a more classical architecture.” Klaus explains, “Let us proceed.”

 

“I wonder if combative stratagems have evolved dramatically, as well?” Saber says, thinking out loud, “I’m going to be fighting other Heroic Spirits but it does pique my interest to see how a modern-day equivalent of a knight operates.”

“Oh! In that case, shall we pay a visit to the library?” Simone claps her hands together delicately, “I hear it is one of the most beautiful and comprehensive collection of knowledge one could ever find.”

“You still use libraries, then?” Saber puts his hands in his pockets, “I would have thought that with the advent of horseless carriages you would be able to get information delivered straight to your quarters with minimal wait time.”

“That certainly is possible.” Klaus says.

“In fact, it is even more convenient!” Simone adds, “Information may be delivered in the blink of an eye.”

“Woah! Seriously?” Saber’s interest picks up, “Forget the library, I want to see _that_.”

 

\----------

 

Hugo stands near the Piazzale Michelangelo with Archer in spirit form. He speaks with him telepathically.

_(“So, Archer, this is probably the best place to do recon.”)_ he says. ( _“We can get a view of nearly the entire city and it’s highly populated so we need not fear being attacked.”)_

_(“A sound tactic, my Lord.”)_ Archer replies. (" _Shall I feel free to place my stake in this location at all times, or at specific times, or perhaps you would prefer we remain together?”)_

_(“I haven’t given it much thought, but I will prioritize survival over victory.”)_

_(“I understand.”)_

 

Hugo looks to one side and cringes. He sees a familiar face, the girl from yesterday.

“Geez.” he can’t hold himself back from showing exasberation.

“Oh?” Juniper looks over at him, “Small world, huh?” She approaches, “What are you afraid of? I don’t bite.”

“I’m not afraid.” Hugo says, “I was just going to be on my way.”

“Don’t be a stranger.” She wraps one arm around his, “We’re both tourists, aren’t we? Why don’t we travel together? It’s kind of boring to sightsee by yourself, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.” he replies, “I don’t travel much.”

“You seem so rich, though.”

“For the record, I don’t trust those whose names I don’t know.”

“Oh, how rude of me! I didn’t introduce myself!” Juniper spins Hugo around and shakes his hand, carrying herself like a sociable ditz, “My name is Avril Hartman.”

“That’s a lie.” Hugo says, sharpening his eyes. He tosses her hand off of his own, “Don’t think I’m too stupid to realize it.”

_(“Best not risk losing his trust,”)_ Juniper thinks, “Oh, that wasn’t a lie, it was a joke." Hugo rolls his eyes at the idea. "Juniper Boreas, that’s actually my name.” Hugo can intuitively tell that she’s not making up that name. “And you?”   
“Braddock.” he says, “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” She grabs his shoulder, “You didn’t say anything about my proposal.”

“In short, no.”

‘“In long?”  
“I refuse.”

“Oh, but I insist! I’ll treat you to lunch, even. You seemed to like sweets, yesterday.” she thinks, “I happened to run into an orgasmically good sweets shop, you simply must try it.”

“Is there any reason you’re being so insistent?” Hugo asks. He’s clearly very suspicious.

“Obviously.” Juniper gets closer to Hugo, “Because you’re quite handsome.”

Hugo tenses up at hearing that. He doesn’t want to betray his instincts, which are telling him to get out of here and leave the girl alone. However, it feels quite good to be told that by someone who is as attractive as Juniper. Especially so since whenever he’s heard confessions or date proposals for the past few years, they all have been directed at Graham.

“I suppose it would be sort of rude to decline when you’re so adamant.” Hugo says, clearing his throat.

 

_(“Why are you wasting your time with that one?”)_ Lancer says to Juniper, ( _“Don’t we have more important things to do?”)_

_(“Patience, Lancer.”)_ she replies. _(“In this sort of war, there is no downside to endurance. It’s not much to it, but he’s got around 30 magic circuits. Why not take advantage of that?”)_

_(“Keep an eye on him. If he’s got that much power, he may not be an ordinary tourist.”)_

_(“All the more reason to try and win favor.”)_

 

\----------

 

Despite wanting to keep a low profile, Arad’s choice of dress in baggy shorts and a tank top seems to draw attention to him. Perhaps it’s combined with his perpetual state of aggression, but it makes him seem like he’s out looking for a fight. To some degree, he is.

 

_(“Oooooh…”)_ Berserker groans. Arad can feel him tugging at him, trying to pull him. He refuses to let his Servant control him, however. Whenever Berserker attempts to stray from his patrol path, he delivers a jolt of magical energy to bring him back in-line.

 

Once he stops for lunch, he takes a moment to speak with Berserker.

_(“Listen, you.”)_ he says, ( _“You’ve been acting out all morning. Know that I will not tolerate such behavior from my Servant. Do I need to break you, or will you agree to my terms?”)_

Berserker laughs. It’s a deep, bellowing laugh. ( _“GI… VE…”)_

_(“You had better be worth this hassle.”)_ Arad replies, ( _“I’ve narrowed down a few areas of high mana concentration. Since you are clearly impatient, we’ll see if you can see some action tonight.”)_

_(“Rrrrrrgh… FEE…”)_

_(“I will offer you a commission.”_ Arad says, _“Kill a Servant and you will be rewarded. Kill a Master and that reward will come with a bonus.”)_

_(“OOORRRRGH…. AHAHAHAHA…”)_

 

\----------

 

In the hotel where Caster is staying, local businesses seem deeply confused by the events occurring. One of the managers, purely out of curiosity, goes in his break to speak with the hotel staff.

 

“What’s going on?” he asks, “I didn’t hear anything about you doing remodeling.”

“About that.” the reply comes from the man who is the manager, on paper, “We’ve been bought out and they hated the layout of the building. There are some huge plans to turn the entire complex upside-down.”

“It’s disturbing our business, though. The construction is very loud.”

“Loud?” Caster stands atop the stairs. “Loud, loud, loud? You don’t know loud.” she turns her attention to the ceiling, “That’s right!” she points at it, “Skylight!” as soon as she commands, workers begin to move to place one where she designated.

Caster directs her attention back at the manager, “As I said, you don’t know loud. How often are you kept awake by the voices, constantly whispering, molesting your ears saying ‘more, more, not good enough’?” She steps down the stairs, her tone becoming increasingly malevolent, “The sounds of construction are downright therapeutic. I have more than enough influence at my hands. If you wish to not disturb your customers, I can arrange a way around it.”

“What are you getting at, miss?” the manager asks. From the way she speaks and acts as well as the dominance she holds over the workers, he can tell that Caster is the one in charge of construction, definitely the one who bought out the hotel.

“It can be anything!” she slides up next to him, “If your store sees no further patrons, it would be one thing. Or perhaps,” she swiftly draws a pistol in her sleeve and points it at the manager’s forehead before he can react, “If you were to be slain, they wouldn’t be ‘your’ customers, now would they?”

“M-miss, there are plenty of witnesses,” the manager says, having broken out into a cold sweat, “If you want me to leave, I’ll just leave.”

Caster raises her arm, the pistol sliding back up her sleeve, “Not at all. In fact, I have a win-win proposition for you.” she says, “This area of town, it’s so drab, isn’t it? Why don’t I take the business off your hands? I have big visions for this hotel, you see.”

“My business is my soul. I would never dream of selling it.” he replies.

“Every man’s soul has a price,” Caster says, her gaze shooting daggers into the manager. It frightens him even more than having the gun to his head. “The question is, what is _yours_?”

 

\----------

 

Christine spent the morning in a daze. She was stunned from the weight of everything Rider told her the previous night and unsure as to how exactly to process it. Since she got up she had simply stared out the window at the clouds rolling by.

 

“You must be hungry.” Rider says. He places a cup of tea in her hands which Christine slowly and absentmindedly sips at. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a cook.”

“Oh. Okay.” Christine gets up, lazing about like a zombie. She goes to place some eggs in a pan and starts cooking them. She had some experience as a line cook in a greasy spoon before.

“Listen, missy,” Rider stands and walks into the small kitchen, “You’re going to have to get your act together or you’ll face death.” he says, “You could use one of those seals to force me out of this War and save your hide, though.”

Despite saying this, Christine simply didn’t have the heart to have anyone’s death on her hands. Not that she was really registering anything he was saying. She takes a deep breath and speaks her first fully cognizant words. “Magic’s _real?!_ ”

“We’ve been over this, missy. Short answer: yes.” Rider replies. “Good to see you’re back in spirits.”

“Way too freaky.” she says, “You say I’m needed for a War for a wish, right? And there are six others?”

“Feel free to regurgitate information to quiz yourself.” Rider waves his hand dismissively, “I’ll stop you if you make a mistake.”

“But, like, what am I going to do about my job?”

“What’re your hours?”

“Monday to Friday, 8:30 to 5. Saturdays it ends at 1.”

“Hard worker, this one!” Rider says with a laugh, “That’s perfectly fine! The Grail War takes place in the dead of night anyhow.” He grumbles a bit, “I would prefer we be able to be early to bed, however. Eleven may be established as a curfew.” He sighs, “Missy, think we could maybe put your job on hold?”  
“I have savings but I’m not really doing work that makes a lot of money.” she says, “I’d rather not.”

“So it’s just about money?” he asks, “I was pretty wealthy in my day. I could keep you in this sort of lifestyle for the rest of your life, no doubt. Do you have any prior commitments?”

“Uh, I could probably call them up. It’d be sort of an inconvenience but, I don’t know, how long will the War last?”

“Usually they go for about thirteen days, I hear.”

“Two weeks. I guess I could manage that.” she says sort of dismissively, “If I get a wish, it’d be for my dream job so I guess I’d end up quitting anyway.”

“That’s the spirit!” Rider leaps up and puts his massive arm around Christine’s shoulder, “It’s a weight off my mind that we can chop all that time out of your schedule and just focus on the War. I promise you, missy, I’ll return your conviction by giving you your wish!”

 

“So, what now, do we go, like, scout or something?”

“On the Sabbath? No, no. That’d be bad fortune.” Rider notices the eggs are about to burn and grabs the pan out of Christine’s hand. He lifts it up and pours them onto a plate, “Today, we rest. Although exploring the city doing shopping technically doesn’t count as scouting.”

 

\----------

 

Erin Rutherford and Assassin. Despite his class, there was no way he was being subtle. He’s amazed at every little thing, like a kid seeing it for the first time. Even mundane things like cheese and bricks, he goes to inspect, having never seen them before.

 

“Hot damn!” Assassin chews at the block of mozzarella, “It’s thick and chunky and bland!”

“You’re supposed to eat it with stuff, not on its own.” Erin says, “I think.” A thought hits her, “After doing some research, shouldn’t you be eating vegetarian?”

“Don’t sweat the details!” he replies, “There are certain perks to being a Servant. I don’t really have to worry about that kinda stuff. Why, a Master could pass by us even as we speak and they wouldn’t even notice I’m Assassin!”

“Oooh! Presence Concealment?”

“You betcha!”

“You can shout out that kind of important detail and they wouldn’t be able to hear it?”

“That’s right!” he turns out to the street, “Hey, my true name is,” as Erin suddenly flinches and turns pale in the face he turns to her, “Just kidding! Naw, but it’s true that I can’t really make a scene.” he tosses the cheese over his shoulder and it lands on someone’s table, the patron seeming genuinely confused about the sudden appearance of a block of fresh mozzarella.

“So that’s why you’re acting like this?” Erin asks.

“To some extent. It’s liberating to act more in-line with how I feel comfortable.” he says, “Thanks to the skills, it doesn’t make me any less perceptible to ignore my training, so why bother?”

“Convenient.” Erin replies, “Just don’t rest on your laurels and end up messing up because of it.” She leans forward and rests her head on her hand. A strange thought occurs to her and her brow furrows, she blushes and turns her attention to Assassin, “Say, to an outside observer, it doesn’t look like I’ve been talking to myself, does it?”

“Hahaha! Maybe!” Assassin says, “Like, I don’t know how it works fully.” he raises a hand and a waitress turns an eye in his direction, “Okay, so people can register me when I’m stealthed, it just looks like they glance over my presence. That answer?”

“Uh, so, like…”

“Anything I say or do, they’ll drone out.”

“So they won’t think of me as some weirdo.”

“Probably.”

“I don’t like the way you said that.”

 

\----------

 

To say that it was a successful date would be layering a lie on top of a lie. Juniper took Hugo to a place that claimed to be serving traditional gelato, and to his dismay it turned out to be a cheap ice cream shop with some slightly thicker than usual soft serve.

 

“To put it bluntly, it’s offensive.” he says to the owner as Juniper simply eats, amused at his attitude, “To think that you can merely add a thickener out of your laziness, well, at the very least you aren’t simply serving regular soft serve, but you have missed the mark by far.” Hugo points at his cup, “Your recipe has acquired the approximate texture of a frozen chunk of cream. It’s downright disrespectful to your customers, insulting both their intelligence and their tastebuds,” he turns his head back slightly, “You should stop eating it, by the way.” Juniper flinches. She clicks her tongue and lowers the cup.

“Furthermore, I noticed the moment I took a single bite that you are using far too much butterfat. The dish took much too long to melt, ordinarily it should do that with great speed. And speaking of the first bite, artificial flavorings are an affront to cooking. A true chef brings out the best of the ingredients” Hugo grinds his teeth, “It’s no wonder your shop is vacant and appears to be going out of business. You have my condolences but I demand a refund. If you don’t intend on improving your product, you deserve to be shut down.”

 

“That was different.” Juniper says once the two are understandably kicked out. “You really take that stuff seriously?”

“It’s a bad habit. My friend trained me to be as critical as possible. My tongue has been turned quite sensitive over the years.” he replies. “However, and don’t take this as an insult, but anyone with a semblance of taste could tell that shop was terrible. Just look at the state of the interior.”

“If you say so.” Juniper rests her hands behind her neck, “Personally I think it’s no use getting a sharp tongue if it just keeps you from enjoying stuff.”

“On the contrary.” Hugo says, “Precisely because I have grown more acutely attuned to the senses, I can fully enjoy foods. Being able to embrace the full splendor of properly cooked dishes, I would say is worth not being able to eat crap. It keeps me healthy, too. The mass production will kill you.”

“Some interesting conversation material for a date.” Juniper says, slyly.

“Trust me, I’ve been holding back.” Hugo responds, “If you don’t enjoy my company, then-”

“Not at all!” Juniper gets close to him, grabbing his arm, “I’d never look down on someone for being passionate about something. So, since that was a bust, why don’t you take me to a place to eat? You know, I’m kind of curious what someone who prides himself on his taste considers good.”

“If you intend on following me,” Hugo says, “I won’t stop you.”

 

_(“You’re worrying me, Boreas.”)_ Lancer says, ( _(“Six days until the War begins and you’re flirting with this picky eater.”)_

_(“Give the seed time to bud.”)_ Juniper shoots back, ( _“I don't like it any more than you do, but it’ll give both of us a real advantage, and if I can get him to be a repeat customer then that’s even better.”)_

_(“Hmph.”)_ Lancer pouts, ( _“To think you doubt my strength so dramatically. I’m beginning to think that you’re just enjoying his company.”)_

_(“As if. I’ve confirmed he’s a self-righteous rich boy who thinks he knows better than everyone else. Hardly the type I’d want extended contact with.”)_

 

_(“Sorry about this, Archer.”)_ Hugo says, ( _“I had intended on using this time to locate the prime areas where you could do reconnaissance. With this woman present it seems that won’t happen.”)_

_(“Worry not.”)_ Archer says, ( _“You are in a public forum, accompanied by a civilian, and there are approximately six more hours of daylight. If you wish I shall head off on my own to try and follow your intent.”)_

_(“Then I’ll take you up on that.”)_ Hugo says, ( _“But in the slightest chance of danger, I want you to return to my side.”)_ _  
_ _(“Naturally.”)_ and with that, Hugo feels Archer’s presence moving away from him. They don’t notice it, but Juniper and Lancer both sense the mana in the area being reduced slightly.

 

\----------

 

Liquor stores, bums on the streets, bail bonds, the works. Arad has never been to the slums before but he certainly knew he was there currently. He followed a trail of mana that he located in the woods. It wasn’t fresh, but that means that whatever the source of the mana was definitely is strong enough to be a Servant.

 

_(“OOOOOOH…”)_ Berserker tries to pull Arad into a pawn store when he sees the jewelry in the window, but to no avail. Arad is laser locked on following the trail and getting out of there.

The trail ends at a crappy motel that’s under heavy construction. Arad simply takes one step inside and immediately knows something is wrong. He leaps back and takes cover in a nearby alley.

 

_(“No doubt about it, that’s a bounded field.”)_ he thinks to himself, ( _"And it’s not subtle in the slightest. Which means it likely was placed by the Master. However, that power was quite noticeable. Not often the hairs on the back of my neck stand like that. I won’t rule out the possibility that Caster has made that place his domain.”)_

_(“Rrrrrrrgh…..”)_ Berserker is trying to move forward, ( _“BOUNTYYYYY...”)_

_(“Calm yourself, you fool.”)_ Arad pulls at Berserker’s figurative leash, _("We have no information. Let’s return here tonight and see if anybody else has noticed the bounded field. Let them be the test rats.”)_

 

\----------

 

As the sky turns orange, the seven each begin to alter their plans. They are unaware how many Servants have been summoned, but know that with theirs present, the nighttime is not an hour at which they should feel safe. Once the sun sets and the streets begin to empty, each one of them will be open to attack.

 

\----------

 

“Wooah!” Saber had spent the majority of the day exploring in the mansion, all on the computer. He was so passionate at seeing the vast array of content online that Simone couldn’t bear to break him away from it. Besides, as Klaus said, the War was about to start, so she took the opportunity to nap during the day so as to make it easier to adjust to the nocturnal schedule of the Holy Grail War.

“There’s so much knowledge here!” Saber turns to Simone, “Say, what’s a ‘cuck’?”

Klaus gasps, “Sir Saber, you are on a site designed to spread misinformation! Please vacate it immediately!” Saber does so and Klaus puts his hands on Simone’s shoulders, “Mistress, please forget that word. It is foul.”

“I understand.” she says, “Saber, it is getting a tad late. Shall we dine and proceed with some exploration of the night life?”

“Now that you mention it,” Saber slouches as his stomach growls, “I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“I was unaware as to if Servants needed to eat.” Klaus says to make small talk as he steps into a closet to prepare eveningwear.

“Not so much ‘need to’ but there’s no downside.” Saber replies. He stands and stretches his whole body out. It’s fun to see the modern world but from now on he would need to readjust his mindset to prepare for combat. “Sort of like how regular people only need to eat, but eating fresh foods is better, right?”

 

\----------

 

“Oh, wow, look at the time.” Juniper glances at her watch, “I must be off. It’s been fun,” she slips a piece of paper into Hugo’s pocket without him noticing and gives him a wink, “Let’s do this again real soon. Maybe start a little later, so that we can keep it going after dark.”

_(“It’s about time.”)_ Lancer says, ( _“Next time you intend on wasting your day with courtship, tell me ahead of time so I can stay in the hotel.”)_

_(“I get it, already. I’ll keep it to a minimum. After getting Hugo, at least. If there’s one thing I don’t want to do, it’s have to spend a day acting all chummy with someone like that and end up with nothing to show for it.”)_

 

_(“Master,”)_ Archer makes his presence known.

_(“How long have you been there?”)_ Hugo asks.

_(“For about an hour. I chose to not alert you since it seemed like you were having fun.”)_

_(“Don’t be ridiculous. It was a hassle.”)_ Hugo puts his hands in his pockets. He’s not being entirely honest, quickly closing the picture the two of them took off the phone. ( _“I wouldn’t be the type to drop everything for someone I only just met. Anyway, how was your exploration?”)_

_(“It was quite well. I have found at least one spot from all four cardinal directions at which I can gain a view of the city.”)_ Archer says, _("In the process, as well, I have spotted a Bounded Field. It was quite large, but for one such as myself to notice it, was not crafted with great skill.”)_

_(“Well, that is an area to investigate.”)_ Hugo puts his hands in his pockets and checks his phone for the nearest bus stop. ( _“If you found it simply by looking, I wouldn’t doubt someone else might have seen it otherwise. Let’s not go there tonight, but keep an eye on it.”)_

_(“Understood.”)_

 

\----------

 

Once she finished up checking out the city, Erin heads back to her hotel and Assassin materializes. He nods.

“It was an interesting day.” Assassin says, “I’ve spotted a few areas with strangely high mana concentrations. Feel free to get an early sleep. I’ll investigate independently.”

“Hm?” Erin raises an eyebrow, “You seem different.”

“Like I said, it’s liberating to act how I feel comfortable,” Assassin slicks his hands through his hair, straightening out the wild white ball of puff into a sleek, compact shape, “However, I am an Assassin, after all. I wouldn’t be worth much if I were to act unprofessional now that my environment is beginning to come into fruition.”

“I kind of liked the other you more.” Erin says with a shrug, “I’d prefer if we could move together. You know, the War won’t really mean much if I sit back and let you do the heavy lifting.”

“Master Rutherford, you should understand that the Assassin’s combat abilities are among the lowest of all classes. It is of utmost importance that we have a greater network of information. Furthermore, there is no guarantee the War has even begun. I merely will be investigating curious areas I spotted in the day and promptly returning here.”

“Suit yourself.” Erin says, “But once we’ve got information, I’ll be backing you up. I’m not the successor, but I’m of a Magus Family so no doubt I’ve got some kick in my engine.”

 

\----------

 

Despite his being the one who insisted they not go out and work on the Sabbath, Rider is getting pretty antsy. He keeps looking out the window, scanning his eyes across Florence and jotting something down on a sheet of paper.

“If you want to go out, we could do that.” Christine says.

“No, it’s nothing.” Rider replies, clearly lying, “Even if I wanted to, it’s bad fortune to demean a Sunday.” Christine makes a note to not tell him how many people work on Sundays. Rider stands, “But, at the end of the day, there’s nothing wrong with taking an evening stroll, now is there?”

“Want me to come with?” Christine asks.

“No, don’t bother. I’m keen to explore on my own. If you want to accompany me, that’s fine, but the sun is just passing over the horizon. As soon as blackness covers the city, you will no longer be safe.”

Christine steps into her shoes casually, “All the more reason to not stay alone, isn’t it?”

 

They do not see much going out. The two simply purchase some rations to hold them over in the event they need to hide out for a few days and return home.

 

\----------

 

As soon as the sun curves over the horizon, Arad and Berserker begin to move. They go down back streets and alleys, swiftly and subtly heading in the direction of Caster’s hotel. As they head there, they notice a strong feeling of mana and take a detour to check that out.

 

While behind a dumpster, Arad sees that the streets have emptied strangely fast. It may not be a surprise, as they’re nearing a more ragged area of town. Despite the area, he sees a small girl, and old man, and a young man wandering the streets. Arad laughs to himself. There’s no subtlety to her movements. It’s blisteringly obvious that she’s a Master, and more likely than not the blonde guy is her Servant. Just to be sure, however, Arad waits until he gets a clear look at her right hand and sure enough, there lie the Command Seals.

 

“Saber,” Klaus nervously fiddles around with his hands, “Are you absolutely certain that this is a good idea?”

“It is the duty of a knight to tend to the needy.” he explains, “If you and Lady Simone are uncomfortable in this environment, you will be unfit to live on as the privileged class. Those who have need not fear those who have not, we must extend hands in friendship towards them.”

“That may have been fine in your time, but nowadays things are a tad different.”

“Worry not, Klaus.” Simone says, “Even in the worst-case scenario, we will have Saber to protect us.” she turns her eyes away and extends her palm, “But, um, I would be less nervous if you would hold my hand.”

 

_(“BOUNTYYYY….”)_ Berserker growls.

_(“Normally I’d disagree with your haste,”_ ) Arad says, ( _“But this is special.”)_ A girl who hasn’t even hit puberty and an old man wandering this area at this time? Arad knows for certain that they are fools. However, if there’s one thing about people at that age it’s that they can swing from foolish to competent at the drop of a hat. Now is the ideal time to claim an early lead over the other Masters. Arad grins, ( _“Berserker._ **_Hunt._ ** _”)_

 

A dirty, middle-aged man with a heavy coat meanders about the road and while Klaus is wary, Simone and Saber exchange a glance as he approaches.

“Hey, little girl,” the man says, “You, uh, shouldn’t be out here around this time. It’s not safe.”

“Good sir,” Simone says, “Thank you for your advice, but please, do take care of yourself. If it is unsafe in this area, you should also evacuate.” she begins to search her pockets for something to give him.

“Ah, Mistress, please do consider the possibility,” Klaus begins, but he quickly turns to the homeless man and sighs, “I apologize.”

_(“Boring.”)_ Arad says, ( _“Berserker, I’ll give you a 5% of a Servant’s worth for the bystander. Let’s get the Master to piss her pants and make her easy pickings.”)_

_(“OOOOOOOOOH…”)_

“Thank you, so much, young lady,” the homeless man says at the small offering of money, “God bless.”

His happiness is short lived. Berserker materializes. He’s deliberately holding back his shine so that what could illuminate the streets is replaced with a simple sheen on his armor even in the pitch blackness.

An ordinary human couldn’t hope to compare against his power. Berserker readies a halberd and with a single swing splatters the blood over the streets. Despite being mad, his orders were to frighten the Master so he ensured that he moved slowly enough to give the civilian enough time to scream.

 

That time gave Saber enough time. He focuses his mana and changes into his armor, drawing his sword and shield. “It’s a Servant!” He shouts, putting himself between Simone and Berserker, “Stay behind me.”

“What…” Simone’s eyes widen, pupils dilating. She’s short on breath and her hairs stand on end. She can’t register anything, her gaze locked on the dead man. Despite a thousand thoughts racing through her head, she can’t focus enough for a single one of them long enough to react properly. Klaus holds her gently, trying to console her.

It’s clear that won’t work now. He lifts Simone into his arms, “Saber, I’m counting on you.” he says.

“Stay nearby.” Saber says as Berserker charges forward.

 

Saber moves in line, dashing forward and ramming his shield into Berserker’s torso to halt his forward momentum. With his right hand held back, he swings overhead to attack at Berserker’s collar. The sword connects but does not go deeply. It clearly does some damage but bounces off of the golden armor.

Berserker is grinning under his helmet. He lurches forward, falling over on top of Saber and both fall prone to the ground. Berserker is the first to get up, smashing his knee into Saber’s face as he does so.

“ **BOUNTYYYYYY!!!** ”

His sight is locked on Simone and Klaus. Saber wraps his arm forward and pulls Berserker to the ground by grasping his leg before he starts moving. He takes the initiative and forces his weight on top of Berserker, but as the beast of a man begins to stand he leaps off of the back and back into a solid stance, aware that he would simply have been thrown off.

“BOUNTY!” Berserker again charges forward with everything he’s got. He pays no mind to Saber tightening and lowering his stance. As he tries to run right through the area Saber stands like a bulldozer, Saber stabs with his sword. The full force of Berserker’s charge enhances the power of the stab. It pierces the armor, sinking into Berserker’s flesh. Suddenly, Berserker turns his attention to Saber, “GU...OH!”

“Felt that one, did you?” Saber twists the sword and tries to push it in deeper. Berserker leaps back.

 

“Not bad,” Arad steps out from the alley with a smirk. He crosses his arms, “Berserker, ignore the bounty. You don’t need to be the one to kill them. As long as they’re dead, you’ll get your reward.” he explains, “So fight using your own discretion. I’ll back you up.”

“OOoooooorrgh….” Berserker stares at Saber, who remains adamant in protecting his Master. Berserker glances at his halberd and then at Saber’s shorter weapon. He tosses it aside and instead materializes a rapier.

Saber realizes that he wishes to cross swords, but using a rapier? For one this maddened? That seems rather impractical. At that, he wields a one-handed weapon with no sidearm. Due to his shield, Saber clearly has an advantageous position. However, he refuses to let that get to his head and steels his body for the second exchange.

 

\----------

 

To keep an eye on the hotel, Archer and Hugo have taken to a tall building nearby. So he can also see, Hugo has brought a pair of binoculars. They have been watching the hotel for about a half an hour and notice that in spite of the late hour, construction is not slowing in the least. However, he can’t see anything resembling a manager. As if they’re ants, the workers seem to just instinctively know where they should move or when they should suddenly switch the task at hand.

Completely obvious. That’s the work of some magic controlling them.

“Excuse the interruption.” Archer says, “But you may wish to divert your attention approximately 40 degrees to the East. It appears as if two more Servants are battling.”

“Convert to radians if possible. It’s more convenient.” Hugo says as he turns his attention in the direction he was informed. Archer adds a verbal ‘hah’ to signify he is taking the order to heart.

 

He Berserker and Saber clashing blade against blade. The speed and power that they both display is awe-inspiring. He can’t even think about anything other than the enthralling spectacle of a fight between Servants. Quickly, though, he notices the young girl in a cold sweat, breathing heavily in the arms of an older man.

“Give me a break.” he says to himself, “If you didn’t want to deal with that sort of stress, you shouldn’t have joined the War.”

“My Lord, any plans?”

“Let’s ignore the hotel for now. This is more interesting.” Hugo says, “Ready your bow. We’ll likely only get one clear shot from this angle but if your aim is true then by tomorrow we could have eliminated two Servants.”

“Understood.” Archer does so, “Worry not. I definitely shall strike my target.”

 

\----------

 

“ **RRRROOOOOOOGGGGGHHHHH!!!!** ”

 

Once it starts, it’s exactly what he expected. Berserker swings his sword wildly without regard for technique or strategy. He’s simply striking from every direction. Wherever his sword’s momentum carries it, he reverses the swing to generate a barrage of attacks. A single strike is child’s play for Saber to avoid, but with them coming one after the other with seemingly no opening, that is where the battle becomes more difficult.

 

He is so focused on defending from Berserker’s assault, Saber can’t notice Arad slip past the melee and closer to Klaus. Arad stretches out his hands and neck as he slowly looms closer to the two of them.

“Old man, I presume that one’s the Master.” he says, “Drop her to the ground and beat it. That’d be your only way to get out of this alive.”

Klaus sharpens his attention, “Would you ask of me to also part with my own heart? How foolish.” He holds Simone closer and whispers to her, “Please, Mistress.”

“Your funeral.” Arad moves with a speed that seems almost in the same ballpark as a Servant. He swings his arm in a massive motion, grabbing Klaus by the neck before he can react and slams the two into a wall. He readies his free hand, beginning to cast one powerful curse on each finger.

“Lady…!” Saber willingly takes a hit as he escapes from Berserker’s range and moves back. He charges Arad, who notices the Servant coming at him with a killing intent in his eyes and points the curse towards Saber. The spell gives him no pause but the inky black stain in the air distracts him for just a fraction of a second. Long enough for Arad to back away.

“Berserker, get your shit together!” Arad orders. Berserker tosses his sword, aiming specifically at Klaus and Simone. In order to protect them, Saber has no choice but to enter its path. He traps the sword under his arm through a feat of either extreme luck or skill.

 

“You two, get out of here now!” Saber demands and Klaus nods. He quickly repositions Simone onto his back and reinforces his legs many times over to allow him the speed to escape from the combat. It’s true that they will be away from Saber, but the threat of Berserker and his Master is the most immediate one. It’s better to risk running into other dangers than to guarantee remaining in the current situation.

 

Before forced to flee, Arad tries to cut off their escape route. As he does so, he hears a loud whizzing in the air and quickly repositions himself. The arrow would have hit him right in the ear had he not noticed it, but instead it sticks out of a wall. Another arrow flies at him, and another, and another. He dashes to the other side of the street and hugs a building, but the arrows continue. They begin to fall on Berserker, who reacts to them like bee stings but nonetheless they provide a distraction to allow Saber to push him back.

 

“Tch. Archer, huh?” Arad slinks into an alleyway, “Berserker, forget it! We’ve got a sniper holding us back!”

“RRRRRGHHH…” Berserker glances at Simone a moment. As he battles Saber, he grabs a street lamp and rips it out of the ground. To escape, he tosses the lamp at Klaus and Simone, forcing Saber to block it which gives him enough time to dematerialize.

 

\----------

 

“Too bad.” Hugo sighs, “We didn’t take him out.”

“My deepest apologies, I don’t know what went wrong.” Archer says. “Shall I fire at the knight’s Master?”

“No, that’s not a problem. If that’s how she’ll deal with all combat, she’ll die without us even needing to lift a finger. In this situation, they could be of more use to us alive.” Hugo keeps his eye on Saber, Klaus, and Simone. They all begin to flee quickly and when they pass through a street he can’t see, Hugo lowers the binoculars. “Plus, your arrow missing is a sign. More likely than not, Berserker’s Master is tougher than your average human.”

He steps back and tightens the scarf he’s wearing, “In any case, if someone else was watching, they could track where your arrows came from and locate our position. Let’s move.”

 

\----------

 

Returned safely home, Klaus gently lays Simone onto a luxurious couch. She still remains with her eyes glazed over in a thousand-yard stare. Klaus sighs and shakes his head at Saber. However, despite the shock, Saber immediately raises his voice.

 

“As a Lord, this is your burden to bear!” Saber shouts, “If you are unwilling to act with valor then you should not have taken on such a responsibility! To protect your allies and crush your enemies, that is the way of a Hero!”

“Mr. Saber, please!” Klaus tugs at his arm, “Mistress Simone is-”

“This is important!” Saber pulls his arm to his chest, out of Klaus’ grip. “There are ways a leader must conduct herself and reclusion from trauma is not one of them.” He kneels, “Lady Simone, if you wish this War to not trouble you any further then I shall without hesitation fall upon my sword.”

Simone turns her head. She weakly gets to her feet, the look of terror on the civilian’s face still in her eyes. Tears begin to well up, but she clenches her fists and shakes her head no.

“Mistress,” Klaus gasps.

“Berserker and that young man.” she says, “If they are allowed to act further then more people will be hurt.” Simone tries to quell her shaking legs to no avail, “Even if I am unable to fight, even if I have feet of clay, it would be unforgivable to allow that to transpire when I can do something to alter the path.” Her words seem hollow, filled with doubt and fear, but Saber closes his eyes and nods. “I know for what reason this War was interweaved with my destiny. If, so early in my life, I cannot live up to face this challenge, I would not be a fitting heiress to the House Luitgard.”

“Mistress!” Klaus falls to his knees and weeps, “I apologize so deeply for being born so long ago! If only I were twenty years younger, I could answer your conviction!”

Saber smiles. “Sir Klaus, in that case I need only work twice as hard.” he says. Saber calls on his sword once again and holds it before his face, “Indeed so. Berserker is a menace, he and his Master are the enemies. As such, they deserve not but a cruel death.”

Simone cringes a bit at the thought of being responsible for another’s death, but she only can nod in response. Her emotions say that killing is wrong, but her sense of reason tells her that a murderer cannot be allowed to remain free.

 

\----------

 

Caster sits in the manager’s office and glares into a viewfinder of a rifle. She sets it down and begins to doodle something in a notepad. Aliah turns her attention to Caster, who had been doing nothing but staring at the ceiling for a while.

 

“What are you up to?” Aliah asks.

“Saber and Berserker fought.” Caster replies, “I also spotted Archer.”

“How?”

 

Upon being asked, Caster fires off a round and the bullethole it makes in the ceiling expands with a mere thought. One of the extra additions to the house, it seems. The area she was staring at was a set of mirrors placed high in the air. From the manager’s office, it seems, Caster using an enhanced rifle scope is able to see a vast amount of information in all directions without leaving her chair. It’s the kind of setup that wouldn’t be possible if she didn’t have extremely potent power within her own territory, Aliah assumes.

 

“So, what have we learned?” Aliah asks. Caster chuckles and steps up from her seat. She calmly walks over to Aliah with a warm smile.

“NOTHING IMPORTANT!” Caster tosses her arms up as her face contorts again, “Like I said, not leaving my territory until it’s complete! And it’s never complete! Saber is strong, Berserker is strong, Archer’s a sniper! Who cares! I could’ve told you that without needing to waste precious time I could spend on renovations! Draw them into my territory and you will win! Got it?!”

“I understand.” Aliah says. She backs away from Caster, who has regressed back into her hysterics. “Then I suppose I’ll do that, one way or another.” She exits the room.

 

While heading back to her quarters, she tries to plan out her next move. This Caster is incredibly difficult to work with. There’s only one tactic she can possibly employ. At that, she’ll need to bide her time and determine just which Servant is the biggest threat to make them be the one she surprises by baiting them into her territory.

 

Aliah enters her room and finds it was renovated from top to bottom. Rather than Caster’s random arrangements, it appears to have been constructed with luxury in mind. Perhaps Caster told the workers simply to give Aliah the best accommodations in an attempt to smooth out their relationship.

Aliah spits on the floor. The thought of having to sleep in some pampered wealthy seat gets on her nerves. However, a part of her enjoys being able to have those arrangements.

 

\----------

 

Erin is about to remove her pants to take a bath when she’s interrupted by Assassin.

 

“I’ve returned.” he says.

“Ah!” she kicks the door closed.

“No, I’m in here.”

“Ah!” she kicks wildly around the room instead. Assassin makes his presence known to her and she pushes his face against the wall.

“Sorry about that.” he says. He reverts back to his other face, “But it was kind of a funny reaction! I think maybe I’ll surprise you like this more often!”

“I’ll Command Seal you.”

“Just a joke!”

“Let me take my evening bath and then we’ll talk.” Erin says. Assassin bows and vacates the bathroom.

 

Once she’s finished relaxing, Erin dries herself off and goes to speak with Assassin. Unfitting of her noble class, she dresses in a simple t-shirt and shorts with her hair down.

“So?” Erin asks, “Any info?”

“Saber is a European knight. Uses a sword and shield. His weapons and armor weren’t Noble Phantasms, I’m certain of that.” Assassin explains, “Most importantly, his Master is a young girl who is assisted by an old man.”  
“So we don’t need to worry about Saber.” Erin muses. “If worse comes to worse we can eliminate the Master, but…”

“But you’d rather not need to be responsible for the death of a young girl?”  
“Kinda.” Erin says with a sigh. “You said European knight. Can you be more specific?”

“Not my area of expertise, sorry.” Assassin kicks his feet up and rests in the couch, “Next up is Berserker. This one, like, woah. Wore golden armor head to toe and used at least two different weapons pretty well.”

“Anyone who wears gold must be a pretty powerful Heroic Spirit.” Erin says, nodding in agreement. “So one of two plans for Zerk. We leave them alone and wait for them to just die without our intervention or we get proactive and try to eliminate them first.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Assassin dismissively waves his hand, “No way I’d be able to fight that Berserker. I say that Saber’s armaments looked mind-numbingly average but that just brings to mind Saber’s prowess using them. This Berserker was crazy strong.” he says, “And his Master was no exception. You should know that he _dodged_ a surprise shot from Archer. Speaking of which.”

“Three Servants? Woah, next you’ll tell me you learned about all of them.”

“No, just the three.” Assassin says, “Archer intervened to rescue Saber’s Master. I wanted to give chase but even when I went full-speed to the building he was firing from, they were gone before I got there. All I can confirm is that Archer's range is over 200 meters, which I coulda told you anyway. Sorry about that.”

“No prob. Tomorrow night I’d say we should figure out something about Archer. Oh, I’ll probably head out on my own, too. I may not look it but I can take care of myself.” she flexes her arm proudly, “‘Sides, as long as I don’t advertise it, they won’t know I’m a Master, right?”

 

\----------

 

“Wow.” Martin Winfield speaks up when he notices the door open, shedding light into the room from the inside of the Church, “You’ve been busy, haven’t you? A fight happened on the first night, before we’ve officially begun.”

“That had nothing to do with me. I intended on trying to track down Lancer’s Master’s quarters but no such luck.” de Clerk responds. “A fight broke out?”

“We’re down one person.” Martin says, turning back to the monitors.

“Fortunate. It’ll be over before,” he’s cut off.

“A civilian, for the record.”

De Clerk shoots Martin an icy glare, “This is exactly what I was intending on stopping.” his voice is sour.

“Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud. It was just some homeless guy, who cares? I'd personally feel grateful that a burden on society was removed.” Martin replies. De Clerk reaches into his pocket, clenching something in anger. Martin waves his hand to shoo him away, “You aren’t allowed to attack me so go let off some steam elsewhere.” he looks over his shoulder a bit, “If you want to end the War prematurely you could try and fight a Servant, but, well, you know. Oh! Why don’t you go and execute a Master? If you can, that is.”

“Did you not want to get more data?” De Clerk asks.

“Well, I do, yes.” Martin wheels his chair around so he can look his companion in the face, “But we got the summoning under way and the changes there are recorded. Now we need to start testing some of the other ones. One of the Servants being eliminated, that’s actually related to the main subject I wanted to look into.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Anyway, things seem to be proceeding interestingly.” Martin tosses an empty coffee mug at de Clerk to clean, “I’m going to go to sleep. From hereon, feel free to act independently. If I need you to do something I’ll let you know.”

 

With that, the first day of the Holy Grail War comes to a close.


	3. Intersection of Impasses

As the morning sun cracks through the window, Hugo is awakened by his phone ringing, playing some progressive rock that shakes his weariness. It’s a text from Juniper inviting him to breakfast. She said she found a nice little cafe that he simply must try.

 

As he’s about to send a message back to question if “nice little cafe” falls under her criteria or his, she sends a picture back to him of a plate of food. Fluffy, cloudlike scrambled eggs on perfectly browned toast and an elegant garnish. He texts her back saying that she just woke him up but she’s got his interest.

 

\----------

 

“Hmm, hmm.” Rider’s started rifling through Christine’s kitchen. He found a couple eggs, some bread, and other various items. He roasted up some bacon, nearly burning it in the process, but kept looking through the kitchen as he ate it. As she gets back from her shower, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, she notices he’s turned half the fridge over.

 

“Is there a problem?” she asks.

“You don’t have any fruit.” he says.

“What are you talking about? Yes, I do.” she points, “Look, there’s some plastic cups of pears.”

Rider turns and examines them. He turns back to Christine and laughs, “My friend, I’ve seen plenty of fruit in my day and that isn’t fruit!” he tears off one of them and tosses it to Christine as he opens it up and sips at the juice. Rider winces and tosses it in the garbage. Christine sighs at the waste of money.

 

“Listen, now, fruit has to be fresh above all else.” he says.

“Not to be rude, but you seriously don’t seem like the foodie type. I look at you and I think you’d be the one who would just eat burnt meat all the time.”

“In my day, perhaps.” Rider replies, “But these days you have the convenience of getting fresh meat, bread, vegetables, whatever you want! You can store it in your box here and have it at your leisure. It confounds me to think you waste it eating crappy preserved food like this.”

“So, what, like,” Christine casually tosses her towel onto a door handle to dry, “You want to get fresh fruit just ‘cause you want to eat it?”

“What’s the point of having a second life if you can’t live it up?” he asks in response, “War starts in six days so we have that time to relax and take all this in.”

 

\----------

 

Rubbing her tired eyes, Aliah marvels at the idea that despite the hotel looking completely different from the previous night, her room was completely undisturbed by the construction. She enters the main office for a cup of coffee, where Caster remains, scratching at something on the floor.

“Morning. Did you not go to sleep?”

“Don’t need sleep. Don’t want sleep. Need to stay awake.” Caster replies, not removing her eyes from whatever’s on the floor, “THERE IS A RAT IN THE FLOORBOARDS!” she slams her fist against the ground, smashing the wood and splintering her hand. Aliah looks over Caster’s shoulder and notices no rat. Obviously, they would’ve smelled it if one were there. She shrugs and steps back to let Caster continue on her own path.

 

 _(“Now let’s see,”)_ Aliah thinks, _(“If all I need to do is lure them to this location, hmm, I’ll need to make some plans.”)_

 

\----------

 

In his quarters, Arad had planned on restraining Berserker to keep him under control. That proved unnecessary, as a small reward of coins grabbed the warrior’s attention. He was enthralled at the sounds and sights as he makes the tiny objects dance in his palm.

 

Before long, though, he grows tired of it. Berserker tosses the coins into a corner of the room, both ferocious but making it clear they are still his property, and turns to Arad.

 

“MOOOOREEEE…” Berserker growls.

“You’ll get more when you earn it.” Arad replies. “If you’re lucky it may be tonight. Now then,” he stands, “We’re going to scout.” His intent was to find the living quarters of Saber’s Master, as she would be an easy first victory.

 

\----------

 

Once she steps out of the shower, the first words Erin is greeted with are not “good morning” or “what’s up” like she expected.

 

“Didn’t you just do that, like, eight hours ago?” Assassin asks.

 

“They say cleanliness is next to Godliness.” She replies, “Besides, it’s relaxing. I do my best thinking in the shower.”

 

That earns her a dismissive shrug in reply. Assassin, feet kicked up on the table with a popsicle in mouth in disregard for the cultural norm as to what constitutes breakfast, replies, “So did you come up with any plan for today?”

 

“Uh, not really.” Erin answers. She sits down and stretches out her toes, starting to feel more comfortable around Assassin already. “We’ll just wing it, that sound good? You said you didn’t get to check out that hotel, right?”

 

“During the day?” Assassin asks, “Why not just catch some rest so we can act in the night?”

 

“Everyone’s going to move in the night. That’s the difference between this War and most conflicts. We gotta do everything all sneaky-like so we do it when there are less people on the street.” Erin explains, “So wouldn’t it be ideal to sneak during the day? Even if we get spotted, we can easily move to a more populated area.”

 

“I guess that’s true.” Assassin tosses the popsicle stick into a trash can. “You might be sharper than you let on.”

 

“I choose to take that as a compliment.”

 

\----------

 

The sun had been up for hours and Saber hadn’t heard a peep from Simone. He taps his foot impatiently, no longer paying mind to the tea that Klaus had poured for him. Saber gets to his feet and starts to move in the direction of her room.

 

“Mr. Saber, please,” Klaus calls, “Not just yet. Madame lost quite some sleep last night.”

 

“She’ll be fine. We need to get going.”

 

“Eight hours of sleep is essential for health.” Klaus explains, stroking his mustache, “Especially at her developmental age. Surely you have noticed,” Klaus’ expression turns a tad disappointed, as if the very thought of the next words being true pains him, “Madame has started to enter the pubescent age.”

 

“Such a shame, but I suppose I can forgive a late awakening for a late sleeper.” Saber sits back down, “However I shall point out now that you appear to be pampering Lady Simone. It may be speaking out of term but forming these habits will make her the type who goes to bed early and awakens late.”

 

“Duly noted, Mr. Saber,” Klaus says, “But I must point out that times have certainly changed from your days.” He knows Saber is still impatient and checks his watch, “Less than eight minutes, Mr. Saber.”

 

\----------

 

“Sorry I’m late.” Hugo says, waving to Juniper. She coyly invites him to sit down and he takes the opportunity to look around the cafe. The atmosphere is near perfect. It’s in a quiet part of the city, window facing the sunrise such that at breakfast time the rays shine in and warm the dining hall to a welcoming temperature, at a perfect distance from the water to give it ideal humidity and fresh, timeless decorum.

 

Looking over the menu, the spectacular atmosphere shows with the price. Everything seemed to have an extra ten euros added on top of a regular price, at least. “I don’t mean to be rude, but this is somewhat above my pay grade.”

 

“Oh? You seemed rather well-off, though.” Juniper, a tad shocked, replies, “You can vacation in Venice and afford high-quality food, yes?”

 

“I’m here on a favor to a friend.” Hugo says, “But my family is far from wealth.” He leans back, “So if you expect me to cover the bill, I’ll have to simply decline your invitation and find food elsewhere.”

 

“My, how frank of you.” Juniper sighs, “Well, I have some money to spare so by all means, enjoy yourself.”

 

“No, no, I couldn’t force you.” he says, “I’ll just go somewhere else.”

 

“At least have some coffee.”

 

“I’m more of a tea person, but,” Hugo spies the menu for the price. At least the tea is relatively cheap, “You seem rather insistent.”

 

“So old-fashioned.” Juniper giggles, “Does your pride as a man dictate you can’t handle a woman footing the bill?” She’s acting coy and playful but inside is grinding her teeth. No way this guy is actually starved for cash, he’s just a cheapskate rich boy who doesn’t like having to pay for his own living expenses.

 

\----------

 

It isn’t the weekend so they missed the farmer’s market, but Rider is nearly blown away by a regular supermarket’s selection.

 

“My! Such bounties! There are foods I’ve never even seen before!” he scans over the aisles, “Bizarre foods." Rider runs across some canned food, "Can you even eat this? I may play it safe and stick to lemons and bananas.”

 

“Lemons aren’t really a meal food.” Christine says. She picks up a grapefruit, “These are, though. They’re more fleshy than lemons.”

 

“I hope I’m not putting you out on this.” Rider says.

 

“Eh, it’s an excuse to start eating healthy I suppose.” she replies with a shrug, “Besides, you said you have plenty of money.”

 

“It’s true.” Rider nods, “But it isn’t exactly modern currency. I’ve learned that.” He reaches into his pocket and extracts a copper coin, “They’re all these. Not this ew-roe thing.”

 

“Euro.”

 

“Besides,” he swiftly places the coin back into his pocket, “Having these floating around would make it easy for someone to notice and as soon as they get a good look at one my true name would be obvious. It’s a shame, but my stockpiles won’t do you any good, missy.”

 

“Then please let me not pay for stuff if I don’t have to.” Christine says, ashamed. She wants to be friendly towards Rider but she's not made of money.

 

“Since you asked so nicely. Food is a luxury. But without food it’ll be harder to remain physical. I want to conserve mana so I’ll remain in spirit form from hereon. Where can I find me some privacy to do that?”

 

“Probably the restroom.”

 

Rider shoots a quick salute to Christine and makes his way to the nearest bathroom to do so. As he walks off he breathes a curse under his breath that his one desire of being able to enjoy the modern world is crippled by his inexperienced and poor Master.

 

\----------

 

Erin thanks her stars that she was born with a body that screams “someone who works out” since it gives her a great cover to run through the city simply with a change of clothes. She jogs through some of the most densely populated areas where it would be easy to hide and some of the more dense zones of mana, where a mage is likely to set up shop. All the while Erin methodically scans the mana concentration to try and find traces of a Servant.

 

 _(“This is somewhat unnecessary.”)_ Assassin chimes in when Erin takes a break to catch her breath. _(“Servants will inevitably start to fight. Then, I can take the opportunity to trail one of them back to their quarters. That's how the Assassin class does things.”)_

 

 _(“Yeah, but it never hurts to be more proactive.”)_ she says.

 

 _(“How about we head to the bounded field, then?”)_ Assassin speaks up.

 

 _(“Just what I was thinking.”)_ Erin finishes and pours out the rest of a bottled water over her head. _(“We might even find someone else hanging around there since it’s such an obvious place to investigate.”)_

 

\----------

 

Erin’s assumption is correct. Arad remains lying on a rooftop a couple blocks away to remain hidden to stake out the bounded field.

 

 _(“BOUNTY…”)_ Berserker growls.

 

 _(“For the thousandth time, patience.”)_ Arad commands, his own patience wearing thin.

 

The bounded field, he notices, has expanded from the previous day. It isn’t significant but whoever made it clearly is only getting started.

 

It’s obvious to Arad that Caster wants to bring others into this territory, and will expand it until that happens. As such, that means Caster is playing it safe. How cowardly, to be one who only fights on home turf. There are, in that case, very few plans he can employ, especially with a Servant like Berserker.

 

He could try and simply assault the territory, perhaps even do so right now. However, he has no clue if Berserker’s strength would be able to overcome Caster and that’s not a gamble he wants to make. Two more plans: either lure Caster out of the territory or find a way to sneak in and achieve a tactical advantage before Berserker is even spotted. While he could explore the rest of the city, he chooses to remain hidden on the rooftop. Inevitably, another Master will likely try and check the bounded field and at that point he’ll be able to witness firsthand what Caster’s territory is capable of.

 

He’s correct. Having hidden for a short while, he sees a young woman jogging stop in front of the territory and turn to examine it. It’s Erin, and he doesn’t pay the girl any mind but does duck farther back when she turns up to the roof for a moment.

 

 _(“Weird.”)_ Erin says, _(“I feel some mana from behind me but the field is all in front. Oh, well, it’s probably nothing.”)_

 

 _(“What’s our move?”)_ Assassin asks.

 

_(“Why don’t you check out the area. Just a little.”)_

 

_(“Got it.”)_

 

The moment Assassin enters the bounded field, it’s like walking into a different world. The building distort like taffy being kneaded and turn from regular hotel arrangements to a helter-skelter. It looks like the construction equipment was used randomly, with strange twists. Windows atop flat walls or on the floor, doors with no way to enter them from the outside, stairs placed at complete random and only sometimes leading to a destination.

 

Caster feels a strong presence enter her territory. She perks up and leaps out the office’s window to greet the guest. Seeing a person do such an act causes Assassin to panic. He’s still concealed but she could sense him entering her territory in seconds. He decides the best course of action is to retreat.

 

Arad sees Erin sprint away from the territory and shortly after notices a woman peek her head out from the premises of the hotel. He assumes that the runner was simply a runner but hears Berserker chuckle when he sees the woman.

 

 _(“CASTER!”)_ Berserker barks, _(“BOUNTY!”)_

 

Arad shoots a surge of mana to calm Berserker’s impending riot and continues to hide atop the roof. The outburst at least confirmed that he knows what Caster looks like and that his assumption she will remain in his territory is confirmed when he sees her retreat back to the office.

 

\----------

 

Finally having awakened and ready to face the day, Saber takes Simone by the hand to rush off onto business. Neither are fully aware as to what the plan will be, so they call the car around so that they can simply patrol the streets to begin investigation.

 

“I must say, though,” Saber says, “It would be for the best if you curtailed your bad habits immediately. This is a nocturnal war but that is no excuse for sleeping so late. Rest is important for your health but find it in more opportune times.”

 

“I apologize.” Simone replies. Saber sighs. He didn’t intend to lecture his Master yet excess sleep is a pet peeve of his that he cannot allow to pass without comment.

 

“So long as you understand, I shall try and put it aside.” he says. He looks out the window and starts to think, “What shall our next move be?”

 

“Uh, I was kind of hoping you might provide some sound tactics. I am probably too young to have a full grasp of war operations.”

 

“A knight’s duty is to fight for his country, not necessarily craft battle stratagems.” he says, “However, my battle prowess is something I may take some degree of pride in. We need not be overly subtle. As you may be aware, Saber is the strongest of the classes. The only Servant likely to match my power is Berserker, and I have confidence that when next we cross swords he shall not be so fortunate.” he says, “In short, I would say that the only plan we must make is to find what circumstances would lead to guaranteed defeat and avoid running into them.”

 

“This was what my parents wanted when providing me with such a fine Heroic Spirit.” Simone says to herself, “Very well. We may begin investigation. Where shall we begin? The bounded field?”

 

“Not necessarily. I believe everyone will be investigating that area so going to do the same would be exposing ourselves. In time, we shall do so but at the moment…” Saber shrugs, “Wandering.”

 

\----------

 

The remainder of the day passes without incident. Arad continued to stake out Caster’s territory but made no major headway in his search. Juniper continued her plan to seduce Hugo as Archer and Lancer conducted their own independent searches. Simone drove up and down the streets to try and locate strong sources of mana and did find a few, as did Erin. Christine, once Rider turned immaterial, seemed to continue on a regular day’s schedule.

 

Once the sun set and everyone began to head home for the night, the second phase of operations begins.

 

He had traversed the hills, looking over the city. Lancer’s eyesight made it easy. Once the people began to leave since the darkness obscures the view, he realizes that now is the time to return to Juniper.

 

However, that plan is cut short. Despite his hiding his presence, he’s spotted and a shuriken is tossed at him which he manages to avoid. He readies his armor. Facing what he assumes to be Assassin, covering himself head to toe in plate puts him at the advantage.

 

“My, my,” Erin sits in a tree, where she placed herself before the battle began to act as a more secure position than out in the open, “I didn’t think there would be a second stealthy guy in this War. And in full armor? Just what Heroic Spirit are you?”

 

“If you are unaware of my fame,” Lancer says with a scoff, “And you, being Assassin’s Master, would be so quick to reveal yourself, then you truly are a fool among fools.” He summons a jousting lance to his hands, “Tell me, do you intend on fighting one of the Knight classes with your cowardly knave?”

 

“Sneaking around isn’t my style, so, yeah.” Erin says, “If you believe in fair play, what say you not attack me, huh?”

 

“Why, I would not be so crude as to strike at a woman.” Lancer replies, “It would not be chivalrous. You have my assurance that I shall not attack you.”

 

“Tch. If only Assassin had tits.” Erin says jokingly. For the record, Lancer may be chivalrous but of course if the woman in question is a Servant he would not hesitate to attack her. “Hope you don’t mind, Assassin. I want to see just what kinda thing a fight between Servants is.”

 

“Very well.” Assassin says. His voice resounds through the area. It’s low and hushed and sounds as if it’s coming from all directions at once. Erin holds her breath for what seems like hours. It’s so dark out that thanks to his concealed presence, she can’t even see Assassin but she can gauge his general presence from his mana being connected to hers. He’s five meters away from Lancer and rapidly approaching while moving about.

 

Lancer doesn’t appear amused. He holds his lance at the ready as his eyes dart across the battlefield. Three meters. Assassin has moved to Lancer’s flank. One and a half meters. Now Assassin has moved behind. One meter.

 

Lancer swings his weapon around his body and strikes Assassin in the ribs. The attack sends the man flying and Lancer chuckles. “I have faced invisible opponents before. You think that would best me?”

 

“Regrettable.” Assassin keeps his eyes locked on Lancer, who is remaining proud and calmly allowing him to continue at his own pace. Lancer conveys even while covered in armor that he is already disappointed. He seems to be trying to goad Assassin into a stand-up fight. Assassin speaks to Erin, “So? How shall we proceed?”

 

“Give it your best shot.” Erin says, “We’re probably going to fight a ton of knights what with the field power bonus Europe gives ‘em. Figure out how to fight someone in armor and in the meantime I’ll try and piece together what I can about his true name.” she adjusts her position for comfort, thinking that his boastfulness about his skills gives her a few ideas already.

 

“If you insist.” Assassin crouches low. Pure invisibility is ineffective, but subtle movements may be something he is unaccustomed to. Assassin circles around Lancer, searching for an opening. There is very little use. He sees that the armor appears to be quite cumbersome but that is only because there are as few blind spots as humanly possible in it. Even if he could find a chink in the armor, Assassin spies a chainmail undershirt that will greatly reduce any damage that he could inflict. Just to make sure, as he slowly circles around Lancer he takes out some shuriken. Lancer doesn't seem bothered and instead allows him to throw the weapons. Initially somewhat cautious, Lancer swings his lance to knock them out of the air but realizing that they are regular projectiles, he allows the rest to uselessly bounce off his armor.

 

In that case, Assassin decides he will have to use a technique of “Fire”.

 

His arms move in a blur, even to a Servant. Lancer doesn’t see what exactly Assassin did but he does notice the lights illuminating his feet. Right as he turns his head to examine the situation, bombs blast at his legs, causing him to lose his footing. Assassin charges in. Tossing his full weight into it, and pushing against the ground, he turns and kicks high above Lancer’s center of gravity. The result is the armored knight falling over.

 

As a followup, Assassin reaches into the pouches he has behind him. He lights six bombs by running their wicks against rough patches on his bracers and drops them atop Lancer.

 

“Woah!” Erin claps, “Not bad, but not exactly the most subtle for an Assassin.”

 

“Those are intended as a distraction in order to escape. I am very much unfamiliar with fighting an opponent in such garb.” he says.

 

“And it shows.” Lancer gets to his feet calmly. He’s not uninjured but Assassin couldn’t hope to break through his defense. “If I were you, I’d cut my losses and burn it into your head that you aren’t winning this war if you want to fight Servants head-on.” he points his spear at Erin, “Young Miss, I promise you that no harm will fall upon you when Assassin dies by my hand.”

 

“Thanks but no thanks.” Erin says with a shrug, “So we’re at a disadvantage? Big deal. I’ve got my reasons to win and that means I’m going to win.”

 

“In that case, allow me to take my turn to show you the difference between any Assassin and I.”

 

She expected him to move sluggishly. In fact, they both did. Generally for such a hefty defense there’s a tradeoff of speed but not for Lancer. His forward charge moves with the speed and acceleration of a champion horse. The ground itself kicks up from the sudden movement.

 

Lancer thrusts once. As it is the obvious choice of attack. After all, Lancer's weapon is of a mighty size even among polearms - a jousting lance of nearly 4 meters in length. That size brings some tactical advantages but it is at a point where its length is so unwieldy that it dramatically reduces one's options for attack. The cavalry charge is a frightening tactic and Lancer's foot speed is enough to emulate a single horse, but a cavalry is most fearsome when they have a numerical advantage. Assassin dodges to the side. His dash continues until he can halt his forward momentum. Lancer then turns again and charges at full speed towards Assassin. Repeated charges, Assassin can simply dodge to the side. It's akin to watching a bullfight, though dozens of charges can take place over only a few seconds.

 

What he doesn’t expect is Lancer to follow up one of his charges by grasping his lance with both hands and swinging it like a two-handed sword. The attack lands cleanly in Assassin’s side and the wood of the lance shatters upon impact. Shortly thereafter, as Assassin is reeling from the attack, Lancer materializes a new weapon.

 

“Not really a great Lancer if you run through your weapon so quickly, are you?” Erin asks, trying to act tough despite being distressed. Assassin staggers to his feet.

 

“Breaking a lance means a decisive blow has been struck.” he replies smugly, “I would suggest you flee. It’s dishonorable to strike an opponent in the back. So long as you don't push your luck and insult my intelligence by doing so repeatedly, I shall allow you to turn tail.”

 

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right.” Assassin says as he nurses the wound in his stomach, “We have no chance of defeating him.”

 

“But we’ve picked up some information,” Erin says. “Sooooo…” she slowly turns from Assassin to Lancer, “We didn’t lose, this is just preparation!”

 

As if on cue, Assassin tosses a ball in front of Lancer that encases the area in a thick smoke for about ten seconds. It’s more than enough time for even a wounded Assassin to make an escape.

 

“How silly,” Lancer returns to his street clothes.

 

\----------

 

Hugo sits in a popular, cheap place. One wouldn’t expect him to be fond of such food but according to his friend, “the people’s food is just as legitimate as fine dining. It has a comforting quality that enriches the mind, body and soul with a comforting atmosphere that lets anyone keep moving forward.”

 

As he waits for his food he sighs. Two consecutive days with a stranger. Well, after two days she isn’t so much a stranger any more. He gets a text from Graham congratulating him and wonders why he got the compulsion to send him an image of Juniper in the first place.

 

 _(“I hope I am not interrupting a vital form of meditation.”)_ Archer says.

 

 _(“Certainly not.”)_ Hugo forces the smile off his face in embarrassment. _(“I was just taking a moment to relax.”)_

 

_(“Then perhaps I should bring this up later.”)_

 

_(“Just tell me. I can’t relax knowing there’s something important waiting for me.”)_

 

 _(“I’ve spotted Saber’s Master traveling through the streets.”)_ Archer explains, _(“There is no logic behind her movements. I ascertain she is likely acting purely upon instinct.”)_

 

 _(“And you’re wondering what we should do about it.”)_ Hugo puts the words Archer is thinking out into the open. _(“Keep an eye on them. I don’t doubt that if you noticed them that another Servant wouldn’t, although we do have an advantage. Top priority is survival, so don’t make a move unless necessary.”)_

 

Hugo gives the order and Archer agrees to the very last word. He makes his departure. Part of not wanting to make a move right at the moment is that Hugo just wants his alone time to eat.

 

\----------

 

 _(“To put it bluntly,”)_ Erin says once they get to safety and return to the city in order to head home, _(“It was a total disaster.”)_

 

 _(“On the contrary.”)_ Assassin says. He switches gears and begins to laugh spiritedly, _(“He bought it! He totally bought it! Shit, even_ you _bought it!”)_ Erin can feel Assassin’s gaze taunting her. It’s annoying, but she’s used to the sentiment. _(“Who gives away everything they’ve got so early, especially when it was obvious he’d let us see what he had and just bounce?”)_

 

 _(“He’s in the same situation. We don’t know very much about how he’ll fight.”)_ Erin spies a row of restaurants and decides to follow it to reduce the chances of being assaulted.

 

_(“Wrong again! I figured out that he talks a big game but he just swung that lance without a true killing power behind it. He doesn’t seem to have great experience in war combat.”)_

 

_(“What if he’s trying to trick us like you were trying to trick him?”)_

 

Assassin drops his laid-back mask and puts on his solemn tone. _(“Unlikely. Were that the case he would have relinquished his position after I used my bombs. That would make us believe that he was frail. I have little doubt that Lancer is a formidable foe. Ordinary strikes shall not surpass his defenses. However, his fighting skills are left somewhat wanting.”)_

 

_(“So, what, he’s like a fake knight?”)_

 

Back to his casual self. _(“No, he’s definitely got skill. It’s just, y’know, something about his style is kinda, how to put it…?”)_

 

_(“Textbook?”)_

 

_(“Close enough, I suppose.”)_

 

\----------

 

Lancer returns to the hotel room triumphant. He’s positively beaming and lumbers loudly through the room to get his Master’s attention. Juniper peeks out from the bedroom door and scowls at him.

 

“What if I have company?” she asks.

 

“Do you?”

 

“Well, no.”

 

“Hurry it up.” Lancer kicks his feet up, “I’ll have killed a Servant before you get some action. What a shame, with that body you should have them lined up around the street just begging to give you mana.” He smiles widely, “But speaking of which, Servants aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

 

“You fought one?” Juniper exits her room and Lancer cocks his head toward the kitchen, suggesting they get some drinks so they can chat.

 

“It was Assassin. Naturally, there was Presence Concealment in play but nothing I couldn’t handle. Furthermore, a direct assault proved ineffectual against my well-honed defenses. In one strike, I managed to break my lance and rebuke them. Suffice to say, Assassin shall not be targeting us.”

 

“Either that or they’ll just aim to take down your Master.” Juniper sighs, “Look, let’s get one thing straight, just so we’re clear: I’m burning your ass before I risk my own life.”

 

“A knight would have it no other way. To die for my Lady’s sake, truly that is the essence of chivalry.”

 

“Good to know.” Juniper pours a shot of whiskey and downs it without even trying to taste the drink, “Because I intend on sending you out alone for the majority of operations.” Juniper stands and approaches Lancer.

 

“Forehead.” she orders. He offers it to her and she places a finger on it. Channeling magical energy, she can see in all directions the path he took home to ensure that he was not followed.

 

“Pretty convenient, I must say.” Lancer says, “But you’re being a bit overly cautious, aren’t you? What with wanting to remain holed up in here. You know that the Holy Grail War is an experience that you shouldn’t miss?”

 

“I doubt there’s much any modern person could do in a match between Servants.” she replies, “And with my mana levels, I’d probably just hold you back. The other Masters would be stupid to stick by their Servants.”

 

\----------

 

The growling grew stronger and stronger, steadily encompassing every pore of Arad’s body as the sun set over the city.

 

_(“BOUNTY…”)_

 

 _(“Have it your way, you bastard.”)_ Arad says. Finally having reached the end of his patience, he decides to beat some discipline into his Servant regardless of the risk involved. The goal is showing him that his haste will only bring harm to himself. _(“Let’s go for that damn hotel.”)_


	4. Power Gap

It’s a little past eleven. The moon sits in the sky, illuminating the strangely quiet Florence night. The quiet atmosphere is what keeps Aliah awake, rather than the loud noises. It’s suspicious. Despite the calmness of the area, the sounds and visuals seeming like any regular hotel, there is an oppressive atmosphere, like the hotel is still bustling with life. She exits her bed and cautiously makes her way to Caster’s office. The twisted hallways stretch like tentacles and the ever-shifting and counterintuitive layout makes a straight shot of about fifty meters take her over half an hour to trek.

 

At a glance, Caster is calm. She’s looking over the blueprints of the compound and taking stabs and slashes at it with a marker. It’s her making plans for tomorrow’s construction.

 

“Where are the workers?” Aliah asks, “You told me you wanted them at all hours.”

 

“They’re here.” Caster replies without looking up from the paper. She straightens her glasses. It strikes Aliah as heavily suspicious. Caster is oddly calmed. It doesn’t last long. Caster springs to her feet and tosses the desk over, “THEY’RE ALWAYS HERE!” She charges madly at Aliah and pins her Master against the wall, “Watching, waiting. It’s because of  _ me! _ It’s my fault! Only one way to handle it and it’s to KEEP. THEM. BUSY!”

 

“I’m not sure what-” before Aliah can finish her sentence, Caster begins to cackle madly.

 

Caster holds a hand out and a rifle materializes in it, “ **BERSERKER IS HERE!** ”

 

The man in golden armor has come alone, only wearing a necklace of a dragon’s eye from which his Master may scry to see without needing to risk himself on the premises. Berserker looks around and notices that while the lights in the hotel are on, only after stepping onto the premises are the rooms illuminated. He growls and with a smile lets his own shine expand, covering the area with his sunlike radiance.

 

“Ooooooh…”

 

Not a soul is present, yet all around him he can practically smell the mana in the air. It feels as if a thousand eyes are locked onto him. Despite this, he does not fear anything Caster may be capable of, and immediately takes off, guided solely by instinct to try and locate his target.

 

“ **RRRRROOOOOOOOOOGGGGH!!!** ”

 

Before he can follow the trail of mana, the hotel responds in kind. Aliah immediately understands what Caster was referring to. From the office, she views as the ground, the walls, the plants, the entire hotel itself begins to birth dozens upon dozens of people. Their expressions hold no individuality, all sharing a vacuous, ghoulish viseage. While she doesn’t recognize the individuals, it is clear they are one and the same as the workers that Caster had taken on to construct her haphazardly designed buildings.

 

The abominations hold their arms out and like Caster they are armed with rifles. As Berserker charges, he pays little mind to the bullets. They strike him but simply bounce off the armor, and even if a regular human would face internal damages from the impact, he is far from a regular human and shrugs them off with ease.

 

Berserker tears through the workers as easily as a lawnmower ripping through grass. He has not drawn his weapon, instead grabbing them and using their bodies as bludgeons. Aliah must avert her eyes due to the shine being too extreme but she can hear many things. Berserker’s war cries. Guns firing. Bullets ricocheting against metal. Bones being crushed, and blood being spilt. It’s obvious that Berserker holds absolute dominion.

 

“You said all I had to do was lure them here.” she spits venomously at Caster.

 

“Yes, yes, I had not expected Berserker to be so durable. And yet,” Caster’s eyes widen. Her perfectly composed voice begins to shake. A new sound enters the battlefield: a ringing bell. “MIDNIGHT!” Caster shouts. Her voice is equal parts terrified and ecstatic. She flies to the far side of the room, “THEY’RE NOT GOING TO BE SATISFIED! BUT THIS TIME, OHH, THIS TIME! BERSERKER!”

 

Caster immediately starts running through the buildings. Slinking through doors much too small for a regular person at a speed unbefitting one of her build, she moves as if she memorized this path before, able to keep moving without watching ahead of her so that she might instead look over her shoulder. She leaps out of a window to the bottom floor, then rushes back up the stairs and slams the door of the office, shutting every window and pulling the curtains over each in turn.

 

“We may be safe here.” she pants. Aliah chooses to not mention anything of that nature and instead approaches a window to keep an eye on Berserker. As she’s about to look outside, she sees Caster point a rifle at her. “Don’t even think of it!” her eyes are bloodshot, “It’s for your own good.”

 

“If we’re going to have time, then,” Aliah says, “I suppose I can’t be surprised that one who exudes the air of a rich madman would have such abilities. Forcing those workers to bend to your whim so much so that their souls are eternally trapped in your castle. How fitting.” She accepts that she must work together with Caster for now but notes that she would definitely enjoy killing the woman. 

 

Once again, the hotel buildings shift and split. The walls begin to groan as faces appear over them. A thick fog fills the area, so thick that it even trumps Berserker’s golden shine. It starts to give even the mad beast some pause. The walls converge as the entire house shifts. It surrounds him, slowly the area becoming more and more claustrophobic. Even a normal sized person would have trouble maneuvering, much less someone of Berserker’s stature.

 

_ (“Learned your lesson yet?”) _ Arad asks,  _ (“Get out of there.”) _

 

Berserker growls disapprovingly. He isn’t frightened by the display. It only strengthens his resolve, as it clearly means that Caster has gotten desperate. He draws his blade and lets loose another roar, charging at full force towards the wall. As he’s about to strike it, the wall opens up to allow him through without any resistance. Berserker tumbles over and in the brief moments he’s stuck on the ground, the walls split apart and build themselves up around his body once again, trapping his joints in windows. Berserker feels a sting course over his body even through his armor.

 

“GRAAAGH!” Berserker flails about. Arad is about to move in to help but realizes this is what he was aiming for. If mere walls hold his Berserker back, he won’t be able to win this War. Berserker scraps about and through pure savagery gains the leverage to force an arm inside the building so that he might push through a wall. Once a small opening is made, he continues his wild motions until he gets back on his feet.

 

Berserker breathes heavily, watching the architecture twirling about the sky, as if it’s planning its next course of action. He doesn’t notice it until one of the workers fires off a shot. The bullet pierces the armor through to the flesh, drawing blood. More continue pelleting him with shots. Completely in shock, Berserker howls in pain and scrambles to vacate the area, but the building materials slam down to halt his progress wherever he goes. As the mist thickens the feeling of the curse intensifies. His limbs feel heavy, too heavy to even hold up his armor. The workers pile around Berserker. Those bodies that were being thrown around so easily before proceed to bring Berserker to his knees and completely halt his movement.

 

_ (“Berserker, get out of there!”) _ Arad is genuinely concerned. Actually, ‘concerned’ is the wrong wording. He’s angry. His own plan to reign Berserker in worked too well and he may very well die. Arad stares at his fist, his knuckles turning white. He could use one Command Seal straightaway, but has a different plan first.  _ (“Ten gold bullions if you get away successfully.”) _

 

The thought brings a massive smile to Berserker’s face. He throws the workers off his body and dashes straight through four walls built to keep him from exiting. When he hits the street, Berserker is too weary to keep his shine up and immediately returns to spirit form to find his Master.

 

“Oh, Berserker’s ran away.” Caster says.

 

“So it’s over, then.” Aliah puts her hand on the door but Caster shoots her own hand out to keep her from opening it.

 

“We have about two more hours we need to wait out.”

 

“What you’re saying is,” Aliah walks across the room and sits in Caster’s chair, “You can’t control your own Noble Phantasm and need to wait for it to finish?”   
  


“Noble Phantasm? Noble Phantasm?” Caster laughs, “There’s nothing noble about them!” Aliah backs away and holds her hands up as Caster regathers her thoughts. Once done, Caster speaks more professionally, “If you want anyone dead, the time is between the hours of midnight and two A.M. That’s the gist of it. Even if they might handle my quarters at any other time, for those two hours, nothing will survive.”

 

“You said all I had to do was draw them into your territory, now we have a time limit?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Caster replies, fixing her hair, “I hadn’t expected Berserker to be so durable that he would not only take my bullets but so adeptly resist the land’s influence.”

“You’re an amateur.” Aliah says, exasperated, “Any Heroic Spirit who would use a gun will have a massive power disadvantage. That’s how magic works.”

“It’s different. Something about him in particular seems... “ she quickly jets her head around and raises a hand, as if waiting for something to pass by. Slowly, Caster lowers the hand and speaks, but more softly so as not to alert anything, “Like some sort of semi-divine being capable of resisting my territory’s influence. I assure you that he is an anomaly.”

 

\----------

 

Not used to staying up this late, Christine’s movements are sluggish, exhausted, like that of a zombies. However, Rider’s insistence. She still is curious about a lot of things and his response was too often preceded with “probably” or “I think” to be reliable. At his suggestion, they would try to get to the Church.

 

_ (“Well, it probably isn’t even open right now.”) _ Christine says as they approach the door. It was her decision to come out now but seeing the cathedral looming above somehow makes her feel uneasy.  _ (“Know what? Let’s come back in the morning.”) _

_ (“A proper Church functions at all hours, so that all sinners might enter for confession. Probably.”) _ Rider says. If he were in a physical form he’d pat her on the back with strength enough to cause her to lose her balance.  _ (“Go on. You can’t trust anybody, but the clergy? You can distrust them less than the average man.”) _

_ (“I’m not so sure about that.”) _ Christine says, but she finds herself pushing at the door anyway. The massive doors creak open, allowing her to peek into a massive hallway, completely open as if it were designed to accommodate a huge standing gallery. The sheer emptiness of the area causes her pace to increase. The doors are open, for one. Was it just a suspicion, or something more?

 

Goaded on by Rider, Christine enters further and slowly makes her way up to the altar. The area is illuminated entirely by moonlight. As she approaches the front, a teenage boy has made his presence known to her. Had she registered his appearance a couple days ago, Christine would have remembered that she saw Martin Winfield.

 

“The door was open?” he asks, “Oh, please don’t tell the priest of this or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“I won’t. Uh, but I do kind of need to talk to someone in the know. Like, someone really in the know.” Christine says. Immediately Martin smiles and drops his innocent boy act.

“Let’s just cut to the chase. So, you got Rider, did you?” he says, “Not bad, I must say. But, well, not too good either. Sorry to say this, Rider, but compared to some of the others I’ve seen, you don’t impress me.”

Rider materializes while Christine stares dumbfounded at this.

“It shouldn’t come as such a surprise, miss.” Martin chuckles, “This world’s bigger than you think it is. So? You came here to ask questions, yes? Well, depending on what they are I may be inclined to answer.”

 

“Okay, uh, first, if you know what we’re talking about…” Christine gathers her thoughts, “Holy Grail War. What?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. You and six others are going to fight to the death for the Holy Grail. An omnipotent wish is something worth fighting for, isn’t it?”

“I have some questions, myself.” Rider speaks up, “Like why this Missy got chosen in the first place. She doesn’t have any magical history.”

“The Grail doesn’t discriminate, it chooses who it will. Even someone without a single magic circuit can be designated as a Master. From the looks of things, your Master got a little lucky.” Martin replies, taking note that despite Christine’s knowledge, Rider is far from weak. “Although it  _ can  _ be persuaded. Perhaps someone wanted you in this conflict for some reason.”

“But, like, does it have to be to the death?” Christine asks.

Martin turns his head, confused. “What do you mean? Holy Grail  _ War _ .” he says. He notices the spark of innocence, the lack of a killing intent in Christine and shrugs, “You should know that most mages won’t be so forgiving. They’d kill their own flesh and blood just for a little more power so of course there’ll be a bloodbath when we’re talking about something this huge. It’s true that a Servant’s death is formally an elimination but since there’s nothing preventing it, and from a practical stance there is every reason to kill the Master as well...” He trails off, his point made.

“What do you mean there’s nothing preventing it?” Christine asks, her face turning pale, “Isn’t it, like, murder? A felony?”

Martin smirks. “Who’s going to prosecute? Mages are well-versed in keeping a masquerade. You should be able to deduce this, as you had no clue of magic’s existence. Any semi-competent magus would leave no trail that conventional investigation could follow. As for the magic society? It’s true they have their own justice system but it cares little for murder. Less competition for scarce resources, after all. For someone with no magic history such as you, they wouldn’t even bat an eye.”

“Is that so?” Christine asks Rider. Somehow she doesn’t feel like she can fully trust Martin’s words.

“I wouldn’t know about mages.” Rider answers, “So let’s assume the worst so that if that isn’t the case we’ll have a pleasant surprise.”

 

“Anyway,” Christine turns her attention back to Martin, “I’m kind of strapped for time.”

“And you wish to know how you can locate the other Servants, yes?” Martin scratches his chin. He had planned to allow the War to continue more methodically, in order to better further his research.

 

However, it would be a lie to say there would be no benefit to expediting the process. “Nothing I can do about it. But you can’t really hide your mana so no doubt Rider will act like a beacon of light to the others when he’s in this form. In addition to his more,” Martin glances over Rider’s long, red coat, “Attention-grabbing attire.”

 

They thank him for his time even though not much was learned and Rider dematerializes before they head out. Rider breathes a sigh of relief to not seemed to have grabbed anyone else’s attention while they were out, as he was worried that a Servant might ambush them tonight.

 

\----------

 

Two times Servants have clashed tonight. One of them was a direct assault on the bounded field. One more, he could sense, left some mana traces about a kilometer to the North. The cathedral, perhaps. After a short nap, it is around 1 AM and Hugo can already tell this, merely by placing his hand on a tree in the Boboli Gardens. He chuckles to himself. The pretense of a date allowed him to go all over the city to set up his own analyses of the area.

 

“Most suspicious.” Saber calls out. He steps forward with his arms crossed, “What, sir, are you doing here at this hour?”

 

“I could ask you the same question.” Hugo responds. He quickly affirms his assumption that Saber is with his Master before he continues, “Accompanying a child, are we? I’d say you’re the suspicious one.”

 

“Before you become accusatory I demand you answer. What are you doing here?” Saber steps in front of Simone.

 

“If you must know, it’s a simple bout of insomnia that I am remedying with a walk.” Hugo lies.

 

“Please, be succinct.” Simone speaks up, “It is not safe to be out at this hour.” Saber subtly turns to her. Despite any happenings he still believes it is far too strange to simply let him go on his way. However, she shakes her head and he understands that it isn’t worth starting something.

 

When Hugo begins to move, Simone sighs and speaks up, “Lying is not polite.” He stops in his tracks and darts his attention towards her. Simone crosses her arms, “It’s a simple spell that you must have learned. A regular alert that tells you when a magical being has entered your bounds.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“If you will please show me your hand?” to this request, Hugo clenches some of his sleeve in his fist.

 

His refusal tells her everything she needs to know. Saber understands and transforms into his armor. Hugo spits a curse under his lips at not noticing. With things at this point, he and Archer agree that there’s not really any reason for Archer to remain in spirit form.

 

“Your abilities seem subpar.” Simone says. She orders Saber, “Please, let us try and keep this civil.”

 

“I saw you fight Berserker.” Hugo says. He’s trying to hide his nervousness. “I was the one who helped you out.”

 

“For that I am grateful.” Saber says, “But it is inevitable that we will need to fight each other at some point. There is no need for fraternization.” Plus, he believes, a battle against someone like Hugo who appears more moderate than Berserker’s Master should help wean Simone onto the concept of the War.

 

“Do you think you can handle them?” Hugo whispers to Archer under his breath.

 

“In the name of my Master, I shall not fail. Do you wish for a mortal blow to be dealt?”

 

“We still have four unknowns. I’d rather leave them around in case they can counter someone we can’t beat.”

 

“Understood.” Archer holds his hand out. “I humbly request a spear. It should be within your abilities.”

 

“Not much around to work with, but,” Hugo sits down, “Give me a minute.”

 

“Whatever you two speak of, it shall be brought to a conclusion now!” Saber charges as he draws his sword. Against an unarmed, unarmored opponent, even one who clearly is powerful enough to be granted status as a Heroic Spirit, he can’t help but feel confident in his victory already.

 

Archer dodges an overhead strike and thrusts his hand forward, striking Saber’s face. He follows up with more repeated attacks to the head, to which Saber responds by raising his shield. The force of the punches with the high-quality wood would break an ordinary man’s hand. Archer’s stings and yet he does not slow his movements. He need not deal a fatal strike, he simply must rebuke Saber. His hands move in a flurry, simultaneously wildly moving to try and keep up with Saber’s every movement while being technically sound and elegant.

 

Hugo finishes his setup after what seems to be nearly 20 exchanges between the Servants and once he’s drawn a circle on the cobbled pathway he pours mana into it which allows it to shoddily form into a reinforced spear of stone. He tosses the weapon to Archer, who takes hold of the weapon and stands at the ready.

 

Saber keeps his guard up. With someone clearly skilled such as Archer, he can’t rush in. Furthermore, the spear has a greater length than his own weapon. He didn’t imagine that he would ever be wary of approaching the class famed for ranged combat.

 

With that, he wiggles his shield arm’s wrist a little. It’s a minor motion that Hugo wouldn’t notice but Simone would. She snaps into her senses and realizes he’s requesting backup. Simone runs through some ideas in her head and comes across one that seems best to her. She readies a spell and tosses her arm out, enhancing Saber’s perception. With renewed vigor he charges forward.

 

The spear of stone moves as swiftly and naturally as if it were a reed blowing in the wind. However, it is not enough when compared to Saber. He can see where the strikes will land and defend accordingly. He gets inside and slashes once, splitting into Archer’s midsection.

 

“How unfortunate.” Saber says with a sigh, “Were you not so skilled that would have been a decisive blow.” He turns and enters his stance again. Archer was merely grazed by the slash. Saber notes that the spear has been dropped, however. He moves in again, this time confident that Archer’s unarmed combat shall not push him back a second time.

 

The stone spear at his feet, already shattered against the ground, shoots into the air and pelts his chest and shoulders. It does little damage but enough for Lancer to swiftly draw his bow. He leaps back and takes one shot which Saber raises his shield to defend against. Despite his attack being a mere arrow, at such a close distance it feels like it will practically break Saber’s arm trying to block it. The pain is clear on his face. Archer readies a second shot.

 

“That’s enough.” Simone raises her hand, “Saber, we must admit that your actions are taken in haste.” She looks to Archer, then to Hugo, “You did not seek a fight, yes?”

 

“At this point of the War, anybody playing their hands is disadvantageous.” Hugo replies, “As your Servant is Saber, I would request an agreement of mutual pacifism between the two of us. I understand that if Saber had no sense of mercy he may have stricken me down already.” that statement causes Saber’s brow to wrinkle. “On the other hand, on my command it would be possible for Archer to pierce your skull with his arrow.” Archer shoots Hugo a quick look as if asking if he should do that and Hugo shoots one back telling him not to. Even so, Saber starts to move in between Archer’s line of fire and Simone.

 

“So long as you bring no harm to innocent civilians, I may be inclined to oblige.” Simone says in response. Saber is a little disappointed that’s her first request. “But I cannot be sure I should trust you.”

 

“Understandable.” Hugo chuckles. Archer begins to move closer to him. “I make no promises but taking a life is something I would very much rather avoid if possible.”

 

The two are at an impasse. Neither is sure whether to trust the other. Archer keeps his bow drawn as the two retreat and Saber keeps his shield up while he and Simone do the same.

 

When they feel safe, a fair distance away from each other, the Servants dematerialize.

 

_ (“For an amateur magus, he has summoned quite a powerful Servant. I believe Archer may be a stronger opponent than Berserker.”) _ Saber asks,  _ (“And he appears to require little mana to sustain, at that. I wonder how this Archer was summoned to him specifically?”) _

 

_ (“Perhaps their mentalities are aligned well.”) _ Simone suggests. She lets out a sigh, allowing her tension to wear down,  _ (“That was quite nerve-wracking.”) _

 

_ (“You performed splendidly. There are areas you still need to work on but I shall inform you in the morning.”) _ Saber says,  _ (“What do you think of his proposition for a truce?”) _

 

_ (“Call me naive, but I believe that until we are given reason to distrust, we should trust.”)  _ Simone says,  _ (“There is truth in his statement that he rescued us from Berserker last night. Speaking of, I cannot imagine a Servant team more destructive than Berserker and his Master. It is my duty as a noble to protect the common man.”) _

 

_ (“I cannot disagree.”)  _ Saber replies.

 

\----------

 

“What do we know?” Hugo asks Archer as he prepares to sleep, flossing carefully, “Or more specifically, what did you learn about Saber?”

 

“His shield arm is quite powerful.” Archer answers. He’s standing in the hallway, having removed his shirt to inspect the wound that struck his side to ensure it isn’t too serious. Mentioning the shield reminds Hugo that he should look into the style of shield that Saber employed to help narrow down the time period from which he might originate. “His fighting skills are not only sharp but deeply ingrained. I would estimate that in his adolescence he did not miss a single day of training.” Hugo moves on to brushing his teeth, “I believe his weapons and armor held no special features, however. My bow should be able to pierce his plate mail. Had I access to my spear, that could also suffice.”

 

“Sorry, that’s on me.” Hugo says after he spits out the toothpaste.

 

“It is of no consequence.” Archer bows humbly, “What I have is sufficient. I do not wish to bring you any stress.” Hugo finishes rinsing out his mouth and starts to make his way to the bedroom. “Apologies, but out of curiosity.”

 

“Tomorrow, right?” Hugo sits on his bed, “Earlier tonight I got a text saying she wants to go to some museums.” He shrugs, “Honestly I’m not really into art but it sounds like fun.” Archer doesn’t say a word but Hugo can tell what he’s thinking. Hugo raises a finger, “It’s fine, it isn’t like we can do much related to the War during the day. Besides, a greater scope of the city being covered means I can set up a bigger network.”

 

“I understand completely.” Archer bows, “There is a time for work and a time for rest.” He smiles, seeming genuinely excited for the first time since he met Hugo, “Furthermore, I find that indulging in such culture bolsters one’s morale, telling inspiring tales of great men of the past.”

 

Right as he’s about to go to sleep, Hugo hears his phone send out the sound of a text message. He’s about to get up but before he can do so Archer retrieves the device for him. Hugo nods and checks the phone. The text came from an unfamiliar number.

 

It reads as follows:

 

“Master of Archer, tomorrow there will be a meet and greet for the lot of you in the Santa Maria. You will not be forced to show up but will be highly encouraged to do so.

 

Cheers.”

 

Merely looking at it sends sweat dripping down Hugo’s spine. He tenses up. How could anybody sleep after seeing news like that?


	5. Meeting

Despite his best efforts to ensure her comfort, Klaus is elderly and thus cannot watch over Simone’s room at all hours. He had drawn her blinds once she went to sleep but Saber had taken the liberty to open them up again afterwards. It allows the morning sunlight to enter the room at full tilt so that she awakens hastily.

 

Not wanting to disappoint him, Simone forces her sleepy bones to move. She goes to wash her face. The cold water allows her to enter a cogniscient state. Once awakened, Simone follows her instinct to lead back to Saber.

 

She finds him in the room with the computer, watching a movie intently. His eyes are fixed on the screen and he’s leaning forward, resting his chin on one hand as if taking numerous mental notes.

 

“Have you not rested?” Simone asks, “Please do not wear yourself out.”

“Not a problem.” Saber replies without turning his attention, “In this state I am blessed with not needing to waste my time with sleep.” He pauses the video so that he might give his Master his full attention, “I had spent the last few hours researching Archer’s fighting style. It is clear that he is of Chinese origin, but beyond that I can give no details. Instead, I have taken the liberty to seek out as much information about Chinese martial arts as possible so that I might be better equipped when next we fight.” Saber turns, “I must say, Chinese fighters have many openings. On the other hand, from the looks of things, their physicality is second to none.”

“Is that so?” Simone looks over Saber’s shoulder at the screen. She notices some computer generated objects and gives a melancholy smile, “I apologize, but I should point out that you have not spent that time as productively as you may have hoped.” Saber raises an eyebrow. “Those are films, motion pictures. They are akin to a play. As a film is meant for the masses, it by necessity has little need for technical combat.”

“Is that so?” Saber asks, “Well, I thought it was strange that they would be fighting in such a manner.”

“We can certainly spend today trying to learn more about Archer’s fighting style.” Simone says, “The internet may be filled with irrelevant information but it is just as rich with reliable sources. It is important to be able to discern between the two.” She extends her hand, “But first, shall we eat breakfast?”

“Gladly.” Saber stands and takes Simone’s hand.

 

\----------

 

Not accustomed to a nocturnal schedule, Christine awakens late, around 9 AM. She makes herself two sunny side-up eggs on toast with some cheap coffee for her breakfast before realizing something is missing from her apartment. Particularly, someone.

 

Luckily, she has something of an innate sixth sense to his location thanks to her command seal. Christine steps into her worn sneakers and goes out to find him. There’s no doubt he’s causing a scene. They already discussed how he has no street clothes.

 

She finds him in a square, surrounded by a massive crowd. She thinks,  _ (Obviously! Just look at what he’s wearing! He’s got like six guns right on his chest!) _

 

However, it doesn’t seem to be eliciting curiosity. No, instead he’s making a grandiose speech, telling a comical story of life on the sea. He’s removed his hat and placed it on the ground for passersby to toss in donations. Once he finishes, Rider takes note that Christine has got up and tells the people he’ll be off.

 

“What was that about?” she asks.

“Making up for putting you out of work temporarily.” Rider answers. He flicks through money in the hat and hands it to her, “Since there’s only two of us, doling out a proper share is a simple half and half.”

“Not to sound rude, but what exactly do you need money for?” she asks. Rider begins to direct his movements to an alley where he would be able to turn immaterial without calling attention to himself.

“I have things I want to try. Despite it being a tactical disadvantage, I quite like my material body and would prefer if I could remain in it.” he says. He disappears from behind a dumpster,  _ (“Now, why don’t we go get some clothes?”) _

_ (“If you insist. I’m still trying to come to terms with this whole killing thing, to be honest.”) _

_ (“Don’t worry about it. I’m the one who’ll be doing the killing, after all!”) _

 

Aliah keeps an eye on Christine. She clearly is no magus. For one, the experienced mages have been hiding quite well in this Holy Grail War, almost as if the mediator is trying to keep them from cutting each other down too quickly; yet Aliah was able to feel out the Servant’s presence. Furthermore, Christine is dressed in a t-shirt and faded jeans, not like any magus Aliah’s ever met. She begins to follow after the girl, wondering if she could draw her to Caster’s territory more easily.

 

“Excuse me,” Aliah calls out, “I noticed that performer went to talk with you. Are you related?”

“Oh, he’s,” Christine says, “My uncle.”

“Hmm, he’s quite a skilled storyteller. Where does he work?”

“In-between jobs at the moment.”

“Will I be able to see him again, perhaps tomorrow?”

_ (“Your call, captain.”) _ Rider tells Christine.

“I suppose, probably.” Christine answers, “Until he gets an interview I guess he’s going to keep doing this for money.” She scratches her messy hair, “Well, I’ve gotta run.”

_ (“So, uh, Rider,”) _ Christine says while going off on her own direction,  _ (“You really gonna go there tomorrow?”) _

_ (“Not just tomorrow, I’m going back there tonight as well”) _

_ (“But what if another Master or Servant notices that you’re not just a performer?”) _

_ (“That’s precisely  _ **_why_ ** _ I’m choosing to make myself public.”) _ Rider answers confidently.  _ (“I bet I’m the only Servant who hasn’t had a dust-up so I’d say it’s time to be more bold and get things started!”) _

 

\----------

 

As one might expect, even a museum on an average day is packed in a city as well-renowned for art as Florence. Though they offer tours, it’s Juniper’s preference that she and Hugo explore at their own pace. There is, in fact, something she’s more interested in.

 

“Look there,” Juniper whispers to him, “It’s the Donatello exhibit.”

“That’s what you wanted to see, right?” he whispers back. She nods and goes in ahead of him.

Inside, she starts to talk. “He wasn’t originally an artist, but studied under a goldsmith. When Donatello grew into a sculptor he used the techniques he learned there to really bring out the vibrant, lifelike state of the human form. Just look at the raw emotion on display here.”

“Huh.” Hugo says with a nod. Juniper playfully jabs him in the ribs.

“Am I boring you?” She asks, “Why’d you even come to vacation in Florence if you weren’t a classical art buff?”

“I’m far from bored.” Despite his tone betraying that thought, Juniper can tell that he’s actually enthralled by the exhibit from how his eyes keep shooting their aim across the room. He doesn’t know what to focus on because so much is leaping out at him and he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Just that I didn’t think you would be into this sort of thing, at least not to such an extent.”

“Anyone who doesn’t defy your expectations isn’t worth your time.” Juniper says with a shrug.

 

“Sssh.” Another person stands in the hall, apparently not amused by their discussions. He’s a stern individual. His posture is sturdy and tall. His face appears locked in a constant grimace and yet he can’t look away from one of the figures. Slowly, his eyes scan over it until his chin lowers and he smiles, turning away from it.

“Saint Mark is your favorite?” Juniper asks.

“Of the apostles, yes.” he replies. It’s then that Hugo notices the clerical collar the man is wearing, “The Gospel of Mark is quite rich.” the man takes a second to read Juniper’s face, “But I shall not waste your time with a lecture. If you come to the faith, you may discover it on your own.”

With that, he leaves.

_ (“His movements are strange.”) _ Archer speaks to Hugo,  _ (“They are far too controlled, too precise and flawless to be those of a regular person.”) _

_ (“The Church is roughly equivalent in power to the Mages’ Association, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”) _ Hugo explains.  _ (“I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’s the overseer of this War if he’s that physically capable.”) _

 

\----------

 

Moving through his own apartment feels like slogging through molasses. The full weight of Berserker’s mana drain after that fight didn’t hit Arad until after he went to sleep. Arad grits his teeth every step he makes while Berserker remains carefree, reveling in his ten gold bullions. He’s laughing in a disgusting guttural growl like a total simpleton. His wounds from the previous night seem as if they’ve completely disappeared, and the mana drain on Arad likely is related.

 

He stumbles as he’s making his way to the closet. What he’s looking for is in the safe. Arad falls to the ground and keys in the code. Inside the safe he has not kept anything that one would think to be worth saving. No money or electronics or documents of the sort. All he’s kept are seven vials of thick liquid, a deep, dark red that still glistens like a precious gemstone. It’s something a mage could identify at a glance but that they would be unlikely to have ever seen firsthand.

 

Arad takes one of the vials and makes his way to the bathroom where he places it in an autoinjector and jabs it into his arm. As the liquid flows into his body, Arad’s muscles calm and he can easily stand on his two feet again. With that desperation gone, his situation sinks in.

 

One of his seven is used up, but if it taught Berserker his lesson it would be worth it. As this thought comes, he hears a growling from the other room.

 

“ **MORE…** ”

 

“You’ll get everything that’s coming to you, trust me.” Arad spits into the mirror. Just as he steps out of the bathroom his phone rings to signal a text message.

 

\----------

 

After spending roughly a half hour examining the sculptures on display, Juniper moves closer and rests her feet by pressing her weight against Hugo as they exit the museum and walk the streets.

“Well, that was all I came here to see.” she says, “So you humored me, I’ll return the favor and let you take me somewhere you want to go.”

“In that case,” Hugo starts to think, “I’d really like to have tagliata but it’s definitely not within my price range. So how about we get some tripe?”

“Where?”

“Well, let’s see,” Hugo points to the first street vendor he sees, “How about there?”   
“Street food?” she turns to him, “You don’t strike me as the type who would dare put some common plebian’s food in your mouth.”   
“Anyone who doesn’t defy your expectations isn’t worth your time.” Hugo echoes with a chuckle, “Street vendors are the heart and soul of local cuisine. Even if a food is cheap and crude, if it has quality, that will shine through.”

 

\----------

 

“So, this is a fine-ass mess.” Erin tosses her phone over her shoulder to let Assassin catch it.

“Fine-ass I get.” Assassin says, eyeing over her workout clothes, her body glistening in a thin layer of sweat, “Mess?”

“You can read, can’t you?”   
“Of course.” He looks over the message on the phone and his eyes sharpen, “I recommend we acquiesce to it. Otherwise we may be at a disadvantage.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Erin turns and slouches over her chair, “So, what you think we should spend the rest of the day on?”

“I already have taken precautions to investigate a surge of mana from a central area. It undoubtedly was a Servant.”

“At this time?”

“It is strange. That’s why I say we play it safe. It most likely is someone trying to draw attention to himself.”

“So what are you doing around here?” Erin falls back and slouches over her seat, “Go investigate, I’ll recoup on some sleep and mana and stuff.”

“I currently am in the process.” Assassin answers, crossing his arms and cocking his head at her, “Who do you take me for?”

"Well you didn't really give me any ideas on how else to spend my day." she says, "What's fun in Florence? It's all a bunch of rocks and paint for fogeys. Is every day gonna be like this?"

"Most likely. Blame it on your summoning of the class that depends on your remaining hidden." Assassin says.  


"Guess I'll check the tourist brochures I picked up and figure out how to spend the days." she sighs, "Why couldn't the Grail War just happen while the sun's up? It'd be a heck of a lot more convenient."

 

\----------

 

“Here, my treat.” Hugo hands Juniper tripe on a roll while he has his own.

“Geh, everyone buying it looks like they need to put in their teeth to chew it.” Juniper steps back, somewhat perturbed. Hugo shrugs in response but she takes it to be polite. “Chewy as hell.”

“It’s unpalatable to some.” he replies, “But oh, the tenderness, that light tangy flavor, it’s to die for, yes?”

“It’s okay.” she answers.

Out of curiosity, Hugo checks his watch and nearly spits out his food. He quickly scarfs down the rest, “Hey, sorry to cut out so early but I’ve got some business to attend to. Tomorrow?”

“If you want to.”

“Great.”

_ (“Hmm, he’s not so reprehensive any more.”) _ Lancer says,  _ (“Will you be able to spring your trap within three days, I wonder?”) _

_ (“I’ve wasted enough time. I’ll get it done **tomorrow** , just watch.”) _ she answers as she tosses out the rest of the sandwich,  _ (“Now go on patrol. I’ve got my own plans for tonight.”) _

_ (“You truly are demanding.”)  _ Lancer says with a chuckle,  _ (“That’s fine. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”) _

 

\----------

 

By the time the clock strikes eight PM, Hugo just barely makes it inside the Church. He’s sweaty and short on breath but he’s made it on time. He looks around the room and sees some familiar faces. Simone and Saber are seated next to a table, and on the other side of the table Erin is seated next to Assassin, dressed crudely, like a biker.

 

“You were nearly late.” the priest De Clerk says as he shuts the door behind Hugo, who recognizes him from the museum. He locks the entrance and extends his hand, “Please, have a seat.”

“Those are Servants.” Hugo says, pointing to the table.

He gets no response other than, “Sharp eyes.” Archer materializes and stands at Hugo’s side.

 

The meeting is very awkward. Not a single soul speaks, and each for a different reason. Simone keeps looking from person to person and moving her arms slightly upwards before inhaling and quieting herself. Saber remains motionless as he shifts his gaze from Archer to Assassin. Archer, meanwhile, is only keeping his eyes on his own Master. Assassin appears disinterested, his eyes merely wandering about the church.

“So, like, I guess I’ll be the first to say something.” Erin speaks up, the tension in the room suddenly rising, “Why are we here?”

“Because we’re all Masters.” Hugo answers immediately.

“No, like, why are we here? Who sent us all this text? And why only us? Aren’t there seven of us?”

“Only four of your contact information is known to Mr. Winfield.” De Clerk explains, “That boy, even I can’t fully understand what he’s up to.”

 

Nine PM. Martin Winfield makes his presence known.

 

“Oh, wow, were you all sitting there for a whole hour?” he asks. Everyone turns to him with a bloodlust in their eyes, “I forgot I wrote 8 and thought it was 9, sorry, happens.” he says in a dismissive manner.

“I said this before, but why are we here?” Erin asks.

“It’s just a meet and greet! Tell each other who you are, what you’ve got going on, you know, whatever.” He looks around, “Oh, but it appears that Berserker’s Master is absent.”

“If he’s Berserker’s Master, more power to him.” Erin says as she drums her fingers on the table, “He’d try and rip us all to shreds, right?”

“Yes but I feel like he should get some punishment.” Martin walks around the table, eyeing the Servants one at a time. They’re quite different in person. “I’ve got just the thing: why don’t I tell you where - oh, but he probably has moved by now. Tisk tisk.” He points to De Clerk, “Blame him for not keeping tabs on the Masters. I can’t tell you anything more about Berserker’s Master that you probably don’t already know.”

“Tell us anyway.” Hugo says.

“I don’t like drying my mouth unnecessarily.” Martin replies.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Assassin whispers to Erin, who giggles in response. Martin swiftly turns his attention to her, his welcoming smile remaining on his face.

“Anyway, what we have here is a little friendly meeting. So c’mon, get to know each other a little. I wanted to bring catering but a  _ certain someone _ insisted we not spoil the cathedral.”

 

“Ridiculous.” Saber stands, “I have no reason to fraternize with my enemies.”

“That’s right.” Hugo says, “We can sit here in silence until midnight for all I care.”

“Oh, but I like talking.” Martin says, “And sometimes my mind wanders. I might slip something such as a true name or someone’s magic specialty or…”

“Point made, dude.” Assassin says, sitting back in his chair, “So, like, I guess being able to tell each other our wishes or something? It isn’t like it’ll be a huge deal, right? Look, I’ll even start.” Erin’s about to voice concern but he holds his hand up as if saying it’s no big deal,    
“I’d like to get revenge on the guy who killed me.”

“A fool’s wish.” Saber says, “By a fool who is guided purely by his emotions, it seems. Why seek the Holy Grail? There is no greater purpose than to honor and protect the legacy of Christ.”

“I cannot disagree with your heart.” Archer says with a smile, “But your savior is already dead. His legacy need not your service other than remaining in your thoughts. No, the ultimate wish one could make would be to serve his duties once again.”

“Man, you guys are sticks in the mud.” Assassin leans over the table, “You gotta know how to be selfish every once in a while, you know? It’s the only way to be happy.”

“I fail to understand.” Archer says, “What happiness can you gain that is greater than serving others?”

“No, he is correct.” Saber replies, “In all things you must find the proper balance. A knight cannot live solely for the glory of his lord, nor can he live solely for his own glory. Both are paths to destruction.”

“I’m not even talking about glory, man!” Assassin falls back in his chair, “Being a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be if they all have to be like you. You gotta live up to people’s expectations and stuff? It’s all too much for one person’s shoulders to bear.”   
“That is why you have comrades.” Archer answers.

“What you call a burden, I call a blessing.” Saber says with a nod.

 

“Hope I’m not late!” Lancer kicks in the door, breaking the locks with his monstrous legs. Everyone is stunned by his sudden appearance as he struts into the area. “Heard there was a party. What party is complete without a superstar?”

As he looks over the group, Lancer pauses for a long while, staring at Hugo. He tries his best to keep a steady expression.

“What?” Hugo asks.

“Was I staring?” Lancer steps forward, “My apologies.” he takes a knee to Simone, “I was merely lost in thought. My, a fetching young lady we have here. You surely will grow up to be a true beauty.” he extends her hand, which she takes with a blush as he gently kisses it. Saber flinches, on guard in case Lancer is about to try something.

“And we have met before,” Lancer says to Erin, “Oh, you are much prettier than expected now that I get a good look at you.” he bows and extends his hand.

Erin chuckles and waves him away. Lancer pouts for a moment but stands at attention anyway.

“We were just talking about wishes,” Assassin asks “Got a good one?”

“A wish! A wish! How obvious!” Lancer practically swoons at the thought, “Eternal happiness for my Lady! That is the only wish for a lovestruck fool such as I!”

“His Master’s a woman.” Saber whispers to Simone.

“Wipe the thought from your brain!” Lancer spits towards Saber, having heard the statement, “My Lady is not of this time, oh no, a love this pure transcends space and time! Surely she is blessed in Heaven but I wish only to give her greater tidings! My Lady is fairer than any, be it my Master, my King, or even my God!”

Archer stands and slams his hands on the table angrily.

“Oh, what’s the matter?” Lancer’s tone becomes immediately smug, “Did I strike a nerve? Well, then, shall we do as Servants do and settle this outside?”

Archer turns to Hugo for approval, and Hugo instinctively turns to Simone and Saber.

“Honestly, it is clear to me that I detest Lancer as well.” Saber says, “Archer, you have my word: tonight, I shall allow you to engage in a fair duel.” he turns to Assassin, “Understood?”

“Bro, even if I wanted to fight him I don’t think I’d be able to win.” Assassin answers. “I’m good.” He stands and lifts Erin to her feet. Immediately, in a voice to low for any of the others to hear, he speaks to her, “This will be a good opportunity to gather information. Try not to blink.”

 

Archer tightens his belt and is about to loosen his shirt. However, he decides against it and instead takes his fighting stance.

“No bow?” Lancer asks, “Heck, no weapon, period?” He taps his fist against the breastplate of his armor three times, “Do you seriously think that your fists will be good enough?”   
“As I am a true warrior,” Archer’s eyes blaze with determination, “It shall be no contest.”

“Allow me to lower myself to your level, then.” Lancer tosses his spear aside and reconverts his armor into mana, “I’ll have you know that I hadn’t made a habit of it, but I am quite the wrestler.”

“Suit yourself.” Archer’s eyes narrow. He waits for Lancer to get ready. Lancer checks his stance, loosens up his joints and kicks the dust up in the ground.

“But really,” he says, “You’re an Archer but fighting bare handed? Your bow skills must be lacking.” he trails off as he prepares, “If I were to gamble, was your training perhaps lacking?”

“Don’t let him provoke you.” Hugo whispers to himself, trying to send the message to Archer.

“Okay, all set,” Lancer lowers his stance to the ground and opens his palms to grab, “Shall we be-”

 

As soon as he gives the signal, Archer advances and delivers a swift knuckle to the solar plexus. Lancer reels over, coughing and heaving. He falls to his knees in pain, his spit falling to the ground.

“Lacking.’” Archer echoes. He turns back to Lancer, giving him a chance to get back to his feet.

“I consider that to also be an unfair attack while my guard was down.” Lancer says with a shrug, “You give the signal this time.”

“Very well.” The two enter their stances. Archer shouts, “Begin!” and dashes in quickly. Lancer also charges forward. His dash speed surprasses Archer’s and his shoulder stops Archer’s fist before it reaches the apex of its swing. Archer rises his knee to strike at Lancer’s chin, but it’s not quick enough. Lancer lifts Archer from the ground and flips him into the air, tossing his body so high that he skirts past the light posts. In mid-flight, Archer repositions himself to land on his feet.

“Tch.” Lancer shifts back and forth as he advances. What would look like the footwork of a boxer takes an entirely different form for Lancer’s leg strength, as if he is actually teleporting in those short distances.

 

“His movements are surprisingly compact.” Assassin informs Erin, “But it’s to be expected. There’s little doubt in my mind he is a famous jouster, but not one known for his deeds on a horse. He was summoned without a mount, yet his legs are enough to emulate it.”

“Clearly he can use it in different ways too.” Erin says, “Think we should get him on our side?”

 

Three punches rise Lancer’s torso by forcing him to block. With his head at the right height, a swift roundhouse hits his temple in the blind spot. With his guard blown open, Archer proceeds to rain punches and kicks across Lancer’s frame. He finishes with a palm strike that knocks Lancer flat to the ground.

 

“I’d rather look into Archer.” Assassin says, “Though an allegiance will not be necessary.”

 

Lancer slowly gets to his feet with a grin. He wipes the dirt off his face and fixes his hair, “So, you showing me your best?”

“Far from it.” Archer opens and clenches his left fist a few times, “I believe I should show you the same amount of respect you have shown me.” keeping his eyes locked on his opponent, Archer speaks to his Master, “I know I said that I would lower myself. If you would allow it, however, the opportunity has arisen to eliminate a foe.” Hugo waves his hand dismissively, and the message is received. Archer materializes his bow.

“How heartless.” Lancer says with a sigh as he straightens his body, exiting his combat stance. “You’ll never find true love if you’re all take and no give.” he chuckles and extends his hand, “It’s been quite informative, so I applaud you. I have no intention of dying before I can achieve my Lady’s wish.”

As he speaks, a dagger appears in Lancer’s hand. It is shaped with a regal majesty in a dark blue and gold, though it is only visible for a brief moment as it quickly distorts the air around it. The dagger, starting from the tip, becomes completely transparent followed by Lancer’s hand, arm, and in seconds his entire body is cloaked. Archer responds a split second too slowly and his arrow flies through empty space before striking a tree, splitting straight through it and continuing its motion as if unimpeded until it lands.

 

Silence. Hugo heaves a sigh as the tension drains from his body. Archer slowly approaches his Master and bows deeply in apology. A wave in response is used to tell him not to worry about it. They may not have scored a victory but they have seen what is likely Lancer’s Noble Phantasm, and from the looks of things it shouldn’t be difficult to discover his true name from something as distinct as a knife that cloaks him.

 

_ (“Ho, boy! I’m real fired-up now!”) _ Assassin is immaterial but Erin can feel him practically pumping his fists in the air,  _ (“Hope you don’t mind, I’m gonna be going out to find that other Servant and check his skills! Only one left that we haven’t seen eye or ear of, am I right?”) _

Before she can say anything in response she feels his presence leave, yet somehow doesn’t get the impression that she’s left unguarded.

 

“Unimpressive.” Saber says, crossing his arms. “You held back. Were you to use your bow right from the start, Lancer would have been dead now. For what purpose?”

“I fought simply for my honor.” Archer answers.

“So it’s pride.” Saber scoffs, “A foolish, useless flaw to hold so tightly.”   
“And yet,” Archer fixes his shirt, tightening his belt, “I can tell that your own sense of honor is more important to you than anything else.”

Simone tugs on Saber’s sleeve. She feels her eyes growing heavy, still not accustomed to late evenings out. He grits his teeth and with a shrug, “Let me leave you with these words: your pride is something that should be regulated. The difference between you and I is that I will concede that.”

Archer is about to step forward but he quickly turns to Hugo, who shakes his head. Tonight was more than enough for now. Archer nods. That is the more apt decision. Saber is considered the most powerful class and so it would be foolish to be hasty in fighting one.

 

\----------

 

For the past few hours, Rider has been sitting motionless in the city square. He made sure there’s more than enough room to move around. Aliah sits in a nearby alleyway to conceal herself, keeping an eye on Rider. She’s wondering if she would be able to somehow draw him to the hotel.

 

Just as she’s about to move out and call it a night, an incredibly loud Assassin flies overhead, whooping in excitement. He’s strapped to some giant kite which he crashes into the fountain, leaping off of the kite in the last second so that he can stand on top of the stone art that makes up the fixture.

 

“Who dares disturb my meditation?” Rider asks, shaking weariness from his eyes.

“C’mon, you weren’t meditating, you were napping.” Assassin keeps moving, energy bursting inside him, “Also, like, what’re you even doing just sitting around?”

“Waiting for someone like you. I would presume…” Rider scans over his opponent, “Truth be told I’m not sure what class you might be.”

“Then I guess I’m doing my job well enough.” Assassin strikes a pose, “But just to be courteous, I’m rockin’ the Assassin class! And from what I’ve gathered, you must be Rider?”

“Interesting. You would appear before me so brazenly?”   
“I’ve got my info, for one.” Assassin chuckles, “More importantly, I’m really in the mood for a tussle.”

“So if you determined my class by process of elimination I would guess you have it in your head I’m the weakest of the seven.” Rider stands and stretches his legs. “And that I am the one you feel most comfortable with fighting.” He knows that sort of assumption isn’t exactly inaccurate given his Master.

“Don’t worry about it, bro.” Assassin crouches low, “Let’s just get to it. You ready?”

Rider reaches to his belt for a pistol. However, he reconsiders when he realizes that in the middle of a city, a gunshot would alert many others. Aliah also takes note of this and slinks further into the shadows while keeping an eye on their battle.

 

Assassin opens up by tossing a handful of shuriken at Rider. He raises an eyebrow and allows them to strike at him. The weapons simply bounce off of Rider as if they were as delicate as feathers. Assassin follows up by tossing more shuriken while he slides a bomb at Rider’s feet. Rider swings one massive stroke with his sword. The wind is kicked up and the weapons are shot back to their thrower. He doesn’t stay immobile, though. Assassin draws a kusarigama and begins to dash around Rider. Left and right, he moves erratically. The sound of the chain actually masks his movements due to the chain’s length making it sound as if someone is moving in all directions.

Again Rider begins to swing his sword. The attacks are in massive haymakers. Assassin wraps the sword with his chain. With a yank he wrenches it out of grip. Rider rolls his momentum along with Assassin’s pull and catches the sword before it hits the ground while also tossing his leg out to take a jab at his enemy.

As he is forced to the ground from retrieving his weapon. Assassin twirls the chain in both hands. The sickle slides across the ground and the hefty weighted end swings downward aimed at Rider’s skull. Rider rolls backwards to avoid both strikes. He immediately charges forward and tackles Assassin, who was still recovering from the weight of the offensive strike he tried.

 

Once in melee range, Rider feels a spark and knows that now is an ideal time to strike. He tightens his grip with his right hand and quickly draws his pistol with his left. One shot strikes Assassin in the stomach and Rider twirls the pistol in his hand. With his full body weight, he slams the butt of the pistol into Assassins’ collar and forces his damaged foe to the ground. He holds his sword to Assassin’s throat.

“Looks like I get first blood.” Rider says.

“From a certain point of view.” Assassin replies. His chain wraps around Rider’s throat. It forces Rider off of him and Assassin stands. The chain stops its strangulation and in tandem it seems almost like Assassin’s wounds become healed, at least a little bit.

 

“Been fun, but,” Assassin salutes, “I’m not dyin’ and you’ve got a great purpose in this war if my hunch is right. So, let me leave you with some advice.”

“Hold on!” Rider stands and charges Assassin, but the stealth of his target is too great and he disappears in a flash of smoke.

Assassin’s voice booms in Rider’s ears, though he can’t for a moment figure out from what direction it originates. “You might have something that’ll be good against Caster, who looks to be the dark horse. As long as she’s around, if you make that clear to the other Masters, you oughta be safe. But by the same token, the longer she sticks around the stronger she’ll become. So question time, bud: you ever hear of a game called ‘Chicken’? It’s sorta like that.”

 

\----------

 

Through his wounds, Lancer rests when he gets back to the hotel room. He pops open the fridge and takes a beer for himself. He feels like he earned it. His eye is drawn to the time. It’s far past any reasonable hour and his Master hasn’t returned. While he could easily track her down, he’s not interested.

 

He’s excited for the next day. Lancer wants to see the look on her face when he tells her what he found out tonight.


	6. The War Turns Hot

The first to bed was the first to rise. Lancer is stirred by a bundle of keys hitting him in the chest. Juniper pours herself a cup of instant coffee as he looks at them, perplexed.

 

“For your mount. Picked them up last night.” she says, “Also, just a little extra mana.”

“How shameless.” Lancer replies, “But I can’t say that you didn’t get exactly what I was wanting. You must be a mind reader or something.” he smiles widely, “But I know that can’t be the case.”

Juniper sits next to Lancer and looks at him in confusion.

“We both made some good progress last night from the looks of things. You know, I confirmed the identities of a few Masters by going to that event of yours.” he says, his entire body shaking.

“You seem excited about something. Just skip to that.”

“Okay, kid! Tell me! Who do you know who’s a Master?”

“Just the redhead with the crazy Assassin, right?”

“Oh, wait, I phrased that wrong. Do you know anyone who’s a Master?”

“...The redhead?”

“No, no, no, follow me here.” Lancer raises a finger, “Who do  **you know** who is a Master?”

“Get to the point already.” It’s way too early for her to be getting annoyed by him.

“Oh, I’m trying to think of the best way to say thi- it’s your beaux.”

“Braddock?”

“The very same!”

“Good joke.” Juniper tosses the empty paper coffee cup into the trash can and stands, “I’ve done my research on the Grail War. A Master leaks magical energy like crazy when they’re supplying it to their Servant. It makes detecting another Master incredibly simple. Were he a Master, I’m certain one or both of us would be made aware of that fact before last night.”

“Hey, don’t ask me to explain it. I saw what I saw. How about you ask him today?” Lancer asks, “Preferably  _ after  _ you dry out his mana, yes?”

 

\----------

 

He’s waited long enough and Saber’s patience has run thin. He makes his move for Simone’s room. Klaus holds a hand in front of the door to stop him.

“I know you think it is uncouth but a growing child needs eight hours of sleep a night.” Klaus says, his tone adamant, “I must request you leave mistress be for another forty-three minutes.”

“It already has passed an hour at which I would have begun my daily training.” Saber replies.

“Please try to be understanding,” Klaus’ tone softens, becoming apologetic. “She is quite delicate.”

“Have you ever considered,” Saber says as he turns to get some fresh air, “That is precisely because you coddle her so much?” He shakes his head, “You cannot temper steel without heating it first.”

“There are the ways of the warrior, yes,” Klaus says, “But those customs have become quite antiquated.”

 

\----------

 

“Had to waste a whole day reigning this bastard in.” Arad kicks his fridge, leaving a dent the size of a baseball, “You!” Berserker looks up from his small pile of fortune to give his Master attention. Arad tosses a golden goblet to him, “Take this and stay in here all day. Got it?” Berserker doesn’t give any signal of agreement, instead relishing his spoils.

 

Having exited his hotel room, Arad spits on the ground and grinds his teeth, furious with summoning such a worthless barbarian. He decides that now is the time to act on his own.

 

Arad makes his move to the top of the hotel complex where he’s staying. He keeps another syringe in his hand, hiding it in his pocket, and once he’s up he looks around before jamming the second of his seven shots into his arm. Rather than going slowly, he forces the blood in as quickly as possible. It causes his senses to overload for a moment or two. Smells, sounds, bright lights, the entire city feels like it’s tumbling into his head all at once. It’s going to cost him, for sure, but as soon as he gathers his bearings, Arad grins. His body heat has raised to the point where simply exhaling leaves vapor behind. He stands, as if he weren’t just struck to his knees.

  
“That way.”

 

\----------

 

When Christine goes to check on Rider, she notices that he’s met up with Aliah again, telling a story to a larger crowd than yesterday. Many people seem to have brought their kids.

 

“And that’s why you don’t want to be a fish.” Rider says. He notices Christine and passes the attention to someone else, “Anyhow, nature calls. Enjoy the musical stylings of Frank here.”

 

He goes to Christine, “Yo.”

“You got an associate?” she asks. “You’re paying him, right?”

“He’s just a vagrant with a guitar. And yes.” Rider says as he hands her a crumpled up ball of bills, “Your share.”

“Appreciate it and all.” She bites her lip.

“Somethin’ bothering you?”

“You’re doing all this on your own. I don’t feel right taking money that I didn’t earn.” she hands it back to him, “Are you sure we should stick together?”

“We’ve got ourselves a pretty intimate bond, so yes.” he answers, “We should be sticking with one another.”

“But even if you say that…”

“Tell you what,” Rider pats her on the shoulder, even his casual strength feeling like his hands are the weight of sledgehammers, “We’ll go out and you can see if for yourself tonight. The kind of monsters that mages are, I mean.” He narrows his gaze, “If we broke off, they’d kill you without a second thought.”

 

_ (That’s not  _ **_in_ ** _ accurate.) _ Aliah, spying on the two, thinks.  _ (If Assassin was anything beyond an idiot then Rider may be my biggest threat. So I suppose it would be in my best interest, if he wants his Master to see the worst of the mages, to let that happen.) _ She taps her finger against a teacup trying to come up with a plan and which of the other Servants would best counter Rider.

 

\----------

 

“I’ve found it.” Hugo shows a tablet screen to Archer, “It’s a heater shield, I’d estimate it somewhere around the 13th to the 15th centuries.” He explains.

“So? What does this tell us about Saber?”

“For starters, he isn’t a Knight of the Round Table. That’s a relief.” Hugo breathes a sigh, “Nor is he one of the Twelve Peers. Hm. That makes things difficult.” He says. Hugo stands and paces back and forth, scratching his chin, “That young girl’s magical ability was too great to not be of a prestigious bloodline.” Not that he would know. “Her family could have gotten any Servant they wanted, I’m certain. Why would they choose against some of the most famous and powerful knights?”

“‘Borrow a corpse to resurrect the soul.’” Archer says, “There is an advantage to picking one of less fame. Were we facing a warrior whose deeds spread far and wide, it would be a simple manner to identify his true name and learn of his faults.”

Hugo reaches for his phone but decides against it. He’s in this war for that guy’s sake, it would be in poor taste to call him for advice.

 

“As for Lancer?” Archer changes the subject.

“He removed his armor too quickly, and I don’t think he would be so forward as to reveal his trump card so readily.” Hugo says, “The invisibility is a starting point, but we know little about it. The dagger may have very well been a ruse.” He stops pacing and turns his attention to Lancer, “But I doubt he’s of much consequence considering last night.”

“I would not get so confident.” Archer says, “But I understand and shall respect your decision to not consider Lancer a threat until he proves himself worthy of our attention.”

 

\----------

 

Erin runs through the city while she speaks with Assassin in more detail about the last night.

 

_ (“So, what you’re saying,”)  _ she says,  _ (“Is that there’s not a single fighter you feel content with confronting head on.”) _

_ (“It would be real fun, but,”)  _ he replies,  _ (“We gotta be practical here. I say we lead Rider to take down Caster then take out his Master. After that, we kick back and let the others kill each other before swooping down to take the prize.”) _

_ (“No, no! I hate that!”) _ Erin stops to take a drink of water and wipe the sweat from her brow.  _ (“This is the friggin’ Holy Grail War, a once in a lifetime chance to see legit superhumans fighting each other. Am I supposed to just sit in the sidelines and wait for it to pass?!”) _

_ (“Dude, you summoned Assassin, so…”) _

_ (“Not like it was my choice! You just popped out!”) _ she turns violently towards him but since he is in a spiritual form, all it ends up causing is her to give the evil eye to some very confused locals.  _ (“From the beginning, I wanted to learn if I had what it took to power through despite the odds. Having to do the ‘practical’ line of options will only prove I was wrong to begin with. No way I’m letting that happen.”) _

_ (“Heh.”) _ Assassin materializes, still invisible to the eye, and pats Erin on the head before returning to spirit form,  _ (“If that’s how you want to do things, then let’s give it our all. If the enemy’s three times stronger than me, I’ll just need to triple my efforts. Welp. I’m out of my element, so I guess that leaves plan proactive in your hands.”) _

 

\----------

 

Once more, though he was a bit hesitant to do so since he wanted to continue discussing matters with Archer, Hugo and Juniper meet. He’s a little late and can immediately tell that something’s bothering her.

 

“Sit down.” Juniper says, not trying to beat around the bush.

“Something the matter?” he asks.

“Why are you even here?” she questions, being completely blunt.

“You, well, you seemed insistent.”

“No, I mean why are you here. In this city.” she glares at him and Hugo backs down on his eye contact. “You aren’t really into art so why would you come to Florence for a vacation?”

“Plenty of good food, as you’re well aware.” he answers.

“There’s a lot of good food all over the place in Italy. And France, for that matter. Why are you sticking to this one city?”   
“Budget, I suppose? There’s a lot I want to try in this area and you can’t just eat everything in one day.”

“Is that so?” she asks. Hugo can see a glimmer in her eye and feels uneasy, as if she can tell that he’s not being honest with her. She smiles, the hostility fading, “I guess that makes sense. Well then, how about I treat you to something good?”

 

\----------

 

Saber walks through the gardens, taking in the scenery. He sees elegant flowers, so finely crafted that it seems a mere touch would cause them to fall apart. He passes by a pond filled with fish, fattened from a life of luxury. He sees all the stone and clay that would normally be found in a place of agriculture has been removed, replaced with more fixtures of luxuries.

 

It ultimately reminds him that he and Simone must be utterly incompatible. Saber grits his teeth. Despite that, he thinks, he cannot curse his fortune. Rather, it must be the fault of the times.

 

As he thinks, he sees a glimmer in the sky. It rapidly approaches, burning like a meteor. He quickly looks around in all directions. Of course, it’s obvious. There’s no rule  _ against  _ fighting during the day, so long as the Servants aren’t seen. In such a massive manor, they wouldn’t be noticed by any nonmagical humans so it’s fair game.

 

Saber readies his armor and leaps out of the way of the golden ball that crashes before him, uprooting plants and leaving a smoldering crater.

 

“Berserker.” Saber enters his fighting stance.

 

Berserker grins as he stretches his shoulders, revealing his sharp teeth, the entire set starting to show cracks. “OOOOOH….”

 

The halcyon warrior charges, taking huge swipes with his hands, the talonlike gauntlets slashing at Saber. Saber responds by moving in closer to Berserker’s range and stabbing in between the cracks of the gold armor. Of course it doesn’t even seem to faze the gilded titan. Saber swipes widely to tear the blade through as much of Berserker’s flesh as possible as he backs away.

 

The monster keeps moving, attacking without letting up. He’s grinding his teeth with all his might until they shatter from his massive strength. Neither is capable of damaging the other through their armor and their footwork. Even as a Berserker, Saber notes, he is more skilled than it seems.

 

In the meantime, Arad walks calmly up the main driveway. He approaches the massive doors of the house and after counting to three kicks crudely. His massive strength breaks through the locks and forces the door open.

 

“Pardon me,” Klaus says, stepping down from the upstairs, “But who might you be, exactly?”

“Not important, old man.” Arad says.

“How did you get past the defense systems?”

Arad sneers at the question. “Y’know.  _ Leverage. _ ” he says as he remembers the promise of a new set of golden teeth. Arad stomps forward, making an effort to be as loud as possible, “Since I’m a nice guy, I’ll give you a deal. You step aside and tell me where Saber’s Master is and I’ll let you see retirement peacefully.”

“Threatening a loyal employee of the Luitgard family is foolish, you should be aware.” Klaus tightens the white gloves around his hands. “I shall not for a moment hesitate to tell you that you must vacate the premises.”

“Oh? So, old man, what are you going to do if I don’t?” Arad jeers, “What can a geriatric guy like you even do?”   
“My word, it is something I have done every day for the past forty years.” Klaus quickly combs his hair to keep it out of his eyes. Wind starts to kick up around the room, strong enough to disbalance Arad with his poor posture. “I simply am going to take out the trash.”

 

\----------

 

“Oooh, that ain’t good.” Erin turns her head up.

 

(“You feel it too, huh?”) Assassin asks. “Well I guess at this distance it’d be hard to  _ not  _ feel it.” He says while materializing, “So what do you say we go pay the castle a visit?”

 

Without waiting for a response, as he knows Erin is going to follow anyway, Assassin leaps into action. He darts to the front entrance of the mansion. It’s fortunate for him, since someone had the courtesy to unlock the door and left the path open for easy access.

 

\----------

 

Saber’s blows keep glancing off of Berserker. He’s aiming for the joints of the armor but Berserker’s gotten faster since they last fought. Or rather, thinks Saber, he must have been holding back. Saber ducks low and moves into Berserker’s range, remembering something from Lancer and Archer’s duel. He raises his shield right below Berserker’s midsection and pushes with all his might. Unable to keep his balance, it knocks Berserker into the air.

 

Any direct blow of blade to armor clearly wouldn’t get through, unless the armor were of vastly inferior quality. To that end, there is a solution. With a flick of his wrist, Saber reverses his sword, grasping it by the blade. Taking careful aim, he swings with all his might and strikes the falling Berserker. The attack lands firmly against Berserker’s left shoulder, cracking the armor and dislocating the bones. Saber does not let up, aware that he didn’t do much damage but did daze his opponent. He swings twice more with his sword. Berserker swings his body back to avoid the strikes. Saber takes the handle in his other hand and thrusts the hilt of the sword at his opponent’s face. It strikes Berserker square in the nose, sundering his facial muscles, his golden armor becoming speckled with his bright red blood.

 

While Berserker reels back in pain, Saber follows up once more on his strike by keeping his hand firmly halfway up the blade of his sword. In the split second he takes to gather momentum for a killing thrust, Berserker spits a bloody mouthful of bone at Saber, blinding him, and with the opening grabs his sword and slices, one strike from shoulder to hip. Saber backs away. He realizes that though he damaged Berserker, with that monstrous strength the golden warrior was able to deal a blow just as, if not more, deadly with a single strike.

 

However, thinks Saber, if he lets up his assault now, Berserker may become a larger threat. On the other hand, if Berserker is here then his Master must not be too far away. Saber quickly ponders over what that could mean. Berserker’s Master did not give Saber the impression that he would be the type to go for a frontal assault without reason to do so. That means he’s either backing him up while hiding, or he has split up and is trying to assault the mansion in a direct assault. Either way, Saber concludes that he must strike at the opportune moment. He holds his sword steady, ready to go for another murder stroke, and rapidly advances.

 

At the same time, Arad steels himself but is knocked backwards. Klaus swings widely with his left hand, sending forth a torrent of wind. The attacks have already knocked over everything in the room and pushed them either up to the wall or breaking through the windows. Klaus twirls both hands in the air in opposite directions to keep the momentum of the wind going.

 

_ (Damn old fart, he’s not giving me an inch.) _ Arad thinks, (Figures he wouldn’t come down here and fight like a man. Bet he’s thinking all he’s gotta do is hold out until Saber arrives.)

“Not gonna let you.” Arad stands regularly and lets a gust send him flying back to the door. He extends his hand and tugs, tearing the massive hunk of wood from its foundation. Arad slams the door down in front of him to brace himself from the left hand’s strike. Before Klaus can respond, Arad spins the door and tosses it forward. Klaus has to expend his right hand’s charge to prevent it from slamming into him.

 

Just a few seconds of an opening is all Arad needs.

 

He sprints ahead and leaps up the stairs all in one movement. Klaus readies his left hand and drills the cutting zephyr into Arad’s midsection.

“Fair trade!” Arad shouts. He extends his own hand, grabbing Klaus by the shoulder and squeezing tightly. His massive strength is more than enough to crush his brittle bones. Arad slashes down both arms with his sharp nails as a punishment to the left hand and right hand that had just vexed him so.

He tosses Klaus against the wall and pummels the old man in a primal fury. Only when he hears the crunching of bone is he even begun to be satisfied, and even then he is not content with the dryness of his hands. He wants to be up to his elbows in blood. With his arms, strong enough to tear trees down, he keeps attacking, raining blows on Klaus’ face and torso.

 

“Hold it!”

Assassin leaps through the broken door. In a moment, he notices a slight twitch that lets him know that Arad has noticed his presence but he keeps attacking. He’s gritting his teeth, eyes bloodshot, overwhelmed by his own battle mania.

“I said,” Assassin twirls a chain around and tosses it widely, “Hold it!” The chain wraps around Arad’s midsection and he gets tossed across the room into a wall. 

Arad’s pulse slows down slightly, letting him think more rationally. He slams his fist against the floor, smashing a wood floorboard and leaving splinters in his hand. With a Servant present, he can’t proceed.

Assassin stands at the ready. He wouldn’t hesitate against most mages, but Arad’s strength is strange and he’s not sure if he has another trick up his sleeve. Arad stands and slams his foot against the ground, smashing through the wooden floor to create a hole. When Assassin moves forward to prevent his escape, Arad instead kicks into the wall near him to bring it down. It kicks up a wave of dust, shattered wood and other assorted particles, causing Assassin to flinch for just long enough so that Arad could get away.

_ (“Hey, dumbass!”) _ Arad says,  _ (“You let one slip through! Time to retreat!”) _

_ (“ALMOST…”) _

_ (“No! Now! That is an order! I’m docking your pay if you don’t get over here!”)  _ Arad feels his hand start to tingle but he digs his nails into the arm to prevent the usage of a Command Seal.

 

Berserker snarls and stabs his sword into the ground. Saber advances to take a fatal blow. Berserker flicks the hilt of his own sword and a large chunk of dirt flies into the air. He grabs Saber’s blade and wrenches it from his hands. Berserker spits another bloody mist in Saber’s face and pushes him away, which gives him a chance to escape.

 

Saber wipes the blood from his eyes and grinds his own teeth in frustration. He hurriedly rushes back to the house, fearing that Berserker’s sudden escape act must mean something bad’s happened in their favor.

 

When he arrives, Saber sees the front room a total wreck, and both Erin and Assassin holding the battered body of Klaus.

 

“You…” Saber rushes forward, drawing his sword, “Serpents!”

“Woah, hold the phone, bud.” Assassin tackles Saber, desperate to keep the knight’s arms locked in. “Things would be a lot worse if we weren’t here.”

“They look pretty bad to begin with.” Erin says, “You okay with that tunnel in your chest?”

“He’s a Servant, what do you think?” Assassin says dismissively.

 

Saber’s grip weakens when he sees the colorless face of Klaus. He falls backwards in shock.

“I’m sorry about this all.” Erin says, holding her hands out to show she’s unarmed. She whispers, “Assassin, c’mon.” And he follows suit. One by one, Assassin begins to strip all his weapons off of his person. “We aren’t here to fight, and I certainly wouldn’t want to murder someone like this guy.”

“If you think about it practically.” Assassin says as he is removing the shuriken from his belt, “If we wanted to kill someone in here, we’d do it a lot less flashy than this.”

“Plus we wouldn’t have stayed near the body.” Erin adds.

“How are you so blase?” Saber asks.

“Well, you know. Shit happens.” Erin dismissively says, “Sucks, doesn’t it? But, well, no use crying about it.”

Saber stands, more composed. He clears his throat. “More mature a response than I expected.” he has steadied his voice but is clearly perturbed. “Stand aside, I know some first aid.”

The two step back to allow him to deal with the body. Erin can’t look at the display. She’s already confirmed that the Luitgard butler is nothing more than a corpse at this point. It took every ounce of willpower inside her to not vomit in the middle of the hall at that revelation.

 

“Pardon me?”

 

Three sets of eyes dart to the hall where they heard the voice. They see Simone pale in shock, legs quivering to the point it’s a wonder she can even stand.

 

“I heard noises.” she says, “I got frightened, so I... “ she sees Saber’s eyes turn to flame as the other two struggle to look at either of them. Simone falls to her knees as tears burst forth, “I hid! I was…” She raises her hands to her face.

“Don’t avert your gaze!” Saber shouts. She looks up. He walks over to her and places his hands on her shoulders. His tone is steady and gentle. “Don’t avert your gaze.” he repeats, “This is the burden of responsibility.” He gently strokes her hair in his best attempt to comfort her. “Don’t avert your gaze.”

 

“Ah…” Erin steps back and whispers to Assassin, “I think now would be a good time to give her some privacy.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” he whispers back.

 

“You as well.” Saber’s tone hardens. He stands and points at Assassin, “While there is adequate reason to trust you, it is best to err on the side of caution.” he draws his sword, “Were you any other Servant, I might be more forgiving, but it would be naivete to believe you at face value. There is no tangible benefit to allowing you to remain alive.”

“Hold on! I ain’t gonna fight you!” Assassin says, “You do your duty and guard your Master!”

“That  **is** what I’m doing!” Saber steps forward.

“It’s fine…” Simone says, her voice soft and dulled, “Saber. Let them retreat peacefully.”

“Lady Simone, I must-”

“I don’t want any more bloodshed in this household!” her voice cracks in desperation. Without a word, Saber drops his shield and sword to the ground and motions for the others to leave. They exit the house and don’t make a single noise as they slowly walk back to the streets.

 

Simone slowly makes her way to the body of Klaus. Saber stands over her as she slowly takes in the full weight of what has just occurred. After what feels like hours, she tries to stand but can’t bring the strength to her legs. Saber lifts her into his arms to return to a resting area, as the servants around the house have begun to be called in to redouble the defenses and clean the area.

“We should-” Simone starts to speak but Saber shushes her gently.

“You have witnessed something I had hoped you would not need to for the second time. This time, it was far more heavily damaging. It is for the best if you spend today recovering.”

 

\----------

 

As the curtain of night falls over the city once again, Hugo and Juniper watch the sunset from over a hill. Nobody else is around. Without really giving it much thought, Hugo simply is enjoying his time. The sun slowly creeps over the edge of the horizon and slowly the air is filled with darkness.

 

“Hey?” Juniper asks softly. He turns his attention to her, “Think we could move forward? Like, tonight?”

“You really have no patience, do you?” Hugo asks with a shrug, “Truth be told I’m not really ready myself. But tell you what, I’ll give you a promise: I’ll spend the rest of this week trying to mentally prepare myself.”

“That so?”

“I wouldn’t want to let you down but I also know that some hesitance is good. Even at our age, it isn’t a good idea to rush into something. You may not think it’s such a big deal, but…”

“Okay. I’m done.” Juniper stands and turns away from Hugo. All softness departs from her voice, “I was going to do this the easy way. I was going to make it painless. But my patience can only stretch so far.”

Hugo steps forward and extends a hand, “What are you talking about?”

“Lancer, you were right. Let’s just disable this guy and cut our losses.”

“Lancer…?” Hugo steps away from Juniper. He bites his lip. “Do you mean…?”

 

The dark area is illuminated by a bright white light. The stillness is disturbed by the hum of an engine. Hugo covers his eyes to get accustomed to the blinding lights. When he looks up, he sees Lancer in full armor and lance in hand. He’s seated aboard a mount, but not a horse or a camel or anything of the sort, instead he’s sitting in the seat of a new chopper.

 

"Are you sure about this?" Lancer asks, "What if I'm wrong and he's just a dude?"

"Not my problem." Juniper puts her hands in her pockets, dismissive and aloof, "Dead or alive, it'll be the same end result. Though to keep things under wraps at this point, so..."

“Now you're speaking my language!” Lancer shouts, “I’ve been waiting all day to take this baby for a spin!”


	7. Acceleration

The first thrust of the spear hits thin air. It isn’t a successful dodge, rather, Lancer is toying with him. The wheels of the motorcycle tear up the earth with enough force to splatter dirt across an entire room. Hugo grits his teeth and looks at Lancer, then turns to Juniper, before jumping out of the way of another thrust.

 

“You said you were getting impatient, didn’t you?” Juniper asks, “Well even if it’s kind of hypocritical of me to say…”

“I’m having fun here.” Lancer answers, “Why don’t you think of it as me getting used to controlling this thing?”

“Riding skill, don’t give me that.” Juniper says, “Make it quick and knock him out.”

“Right, right.” Lancer groans, “You want him dead or…?”   
“Preferably keep him alive. Killing some random jackoff will only be a hassle. We’ll do something about his memory for this.”

 

As they speak, Archer appears next to Hugo with his bow drawn.

“What took you so long?” Hugo asks.

“I was waiting to see how it played out.” Archer answers, “Not to state the obvious, but it appears the woman has deceived you.” he turns to Juniper, “Master of Lancer, you should know that subversion is a rather low tactic.”

“Let’s not hear that from you guys.” Lancer says as he readjusts his stance on the motorcycle, “You’re just as guilty, aren’t you?”

“How about we get right to the point, then.” Junpier waves her hand dismissively, “It’s been, what, four days? And not a single death in this whole War. I don’t have all the time in the world so how about we change that?”

“You want the Noble Phantasm?” Lancer asks.

“Just what you’ve been using, if you please.”

“Got it.” Lancer draws his dagger and slides it onto his belt, “Last time you didn’t even see a fraction of what I can pull off.” he says as he chuckles, “Archer, if you’re going to run, now’s the time.”

 

“Master, I request a spear.” Archer holds his hand out. Hugo goes to craft one from the ground near them. He scans over the area to find the most sturdy earth and gathers it together, reinforcing it once. He wouldn’t have had the time if Lancer didn’t seem unable to move while cloaking himself with the dagger.

Lancer revs the engine of the motorcycle, filling the area with the loud hum. “OH YEAH! LISTEN TO THAT!” he shouts. The noise of the vehicle drowns out any subtleties that it could carry. It’s bad. Something that loud is noticeable from a distance but up close the sound makes his movements just as undetectable.

However, that doesn’t mean he can’t be tracked. The air shifts slightly around his entire body, possibly with small cracks where he has to see through, but not noticeable ones. One roar of the engine and Archer takes no hits. Another roar, nothing. A third, and Archer doesn’t even move yet remains untouched. He readies himself.

The engine roars again and Archer swings his spear in a massive arc, cutting close to the ground where he sees dirt being kicked up. Dirt flies from around it and a hefty blow strikes Archer’s face. He quickly gets up from the attack and readies himself again.

“Tell me, what exactly is going on?” Hugo asks Juniper, his voice panicked.

“You mean you don’t know? Don’t lie to me, this War’s been going on for at least a few days,” she replies, “And the two of them have already fought before. One thing is for certain: you lied to me, so it isn’t too much of a stretch to realize you’re an enemy.”

“That sort of black and white thinking,” Hugo shakes his head. He can’t deny it’s a legitimate point of view. “Archer! Fighting blind won’t get us anywhere! Let’s retreat!”

“Understood.” Archer tries to back away but the moment he does he’s pressured, the vehicle flying towards him from some new angle.

“There’s no way around it, here.” Juniper spits at Hugo, “One of us is dying tonight!”

“So be it.” Archer draws his bow and takes aim at Juniper. She tries to move out of the way but of course she can’t match his skills. The arrow flies right towards Juniper’s heart.

 

Lancer charges in the way, taking an arrow right to his shoulder. It pierces all the way through his armor and flesh right to the other side but stops short.

“Reckless girl. Don’t say things you’ll soon regret.” Lancer growls. The attack gives Archer enough time to grab Hugo and retreat. “That’s your fault, I’m certain.”

“I think Archer was getting the idea in his head.” Juniper replies, “But you don’t think I know how people’s brains work? No matter how that ended up, we’re at an advantage.”

“What, exactly, do we gain from not simply ending Archer tonight?”

“Let them run about. I get the feeling things are going to be speeding up soon.” she says, hopping onto the motorcycle, “I’m not sure the reason but none of us Masters can sense each other. You know what that means?”

“If I know you as well as I think I do,” Lancer says, “It means we can rest on our laurels?”

“Exactly. Why do something yourself if someone else can do it for you? We’ll play this game defensively. Conserve mana. Pick off stragglers. Lengthen strenuous fights and stir the pot a little bit to cause more encounters. That’s more how I’d like to run.”

“You made a mistake not summoning Assassin.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

 

\----------

 

Returning to the hotel, Hugo sits down on his bed to talk with Archer.

 

“That was eye-opening, to say the least.” Hugo says with a melancholy sigh, “Somehow, I’m not too surprised by it.”

“Lancer is stronger than expected.” Archer comments, pacing back and forth in the room, “He definitely is one Heroic Spirit who is far better on a mount than off of it. That Noble Phantasm, though…”

“I get the feeling we’re both disoriented from stuff that happened tonight.”

“Master.” Archer bows his head, “I believe it might be for the best to gather our bearings tomorrow. I have little doubt that while we were preoccupied, the other teams were gathering data. Survival is your top priority, is it not?”

“You don’t need to use that kind of language. I was preoccupied, you didn’t screw up.” Hugo says, “That said, I fully agree.” He falls back onto his bed, “Luckily there’s Berserker running around still, and Caster’s territory will be a higher priority to take out than us.” He digs his phone out of his pocket. Before he forgets, he sends a quick message to Graham in Egypt.

 

\----------

 

After spending a night searching online for information he can parse about Berserker and Assassin, Saber goes to check on Simone. Even at an hour where Klaus would berate him for trying to wake up the young lady, saying it would be bad for her health, he sees her sitting at a table, weary-eyed and pawing through a photo album.

“Were you up all night?” Saber asks.

“No. Of course not.” Simone answers, “Klaus will get mad at me if I stay up too late.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I can not remember the last time he got mad at me, though. He has not raised his voice in quite a while.” she glances to her hand, “Ah, right. When this appeared on my hand. I tried to hide it, but he could tell. ‘You never wear gloves. Do not lie to me, I changed your diapers, I taught you how to read and write. I baked every one of your birthday cakes’,” she pauses, reminiscing how every single cake was more delicious than the last, and the love she could feel poured into them only grew each year, “‘I did not raise you to be like this.’” Tears well up in Simone’s eyes once more.

“Lady Simone,” Saber steels his resolve, “I know it will not bring him back, but I would not complain if you were to terminate our contract right now.”

“No.” she wipes the tears from her face, “I was not raised to be such a person.” Simone stands. Her expression carries more than sadness. The green windows to her soul are cracked but not broken. More than anything, she carries an air of one who wants nobody else to go through what she had.

 

\----------

 

Hugo couldn’t get much sleep over the night. His pulse has been racing since he learned of Simone’s identity and he had quickly received word back from Graham.

 

“That shouldn’t be the case.” the message reads, “I did my own preliminary research on the Holy Grail War and apparently you should be able to at least sense when another Master is nearby. I’m not very sure how or why it’s different for your situation but I know it’s strange.”

 

He then made a decision that he had some questions for the Winfield boy. Hugo paced back and forth in his room all night, not willing to leave the safety of his room without the confirmation that daylight had come to keep him safe. Even now, he’s waiting patiently. No city starts to get active until about ten in the morning, so he waits. To keep himself busy and hopefully steady his nerves, Hugo cooks. He cracks two eggs in a pan and struggles to make an omelette while evenly cooking the eggs.

 

“It’s funny, I’m certain.” Hugo says to Archer as he opens up the trash can lid for a burnt mess of egg, bell pepper and bacon, “It’s easy for me to critique cooking but I’m not very good at it myself. Guess I’d always been reliant on my friend for making good food.”

“Please step aside,” Archer grabs the frying pan out of Hugo’s hand, “First and foremost, food should not go wasted. I will eat this.” He pours out the contents onto a plate, scraping off the ash even, “Now I may not live up to your expectations, but I cooked a little in the army.”

 

As if by instinct, Archer finds the rice in the kitchen and tosses it into a pot along with water and lets it boil. In the meantime, he cops up some stray vegetables in the kitchen and adds salt, sugar and chicken stock. When the rice is softened into a thick soup, Archer pours it out into a bowl, cracks a raw egg over the dish and garnishes with his vegetables.

 

“I improvised something more fancy, knowing your palate. I hope you find it agreeable.” Archer says as he hands the bowl to Hugo.

 

“You don’t need to eat the omelette.” Hugo tells Archer.

 

“But I should.” is the response he gets, “And I shall. It would pain me greatly to see my Master’s time, money, and effort go purely to waste.”

 

“Suit yourself.” Hugo takes a spoonful of porridge. He’s surprised. It isn’t anything special, not something he would ever go out of his way to eat nor anything that he would ever feel a compulsion to eat again, the porridge has a certain heart to it. It’s filled with Archer’s earnest desire to see his Master contented. If a high-class dessert is something that you wish to eat more of, this porridge is a dish designed to fill your stomach with dense, high-energy, soul enrichment quickly and simply. Even Archer’s attempts to add a modern flair to the dish doesn’t change that it is a dish whose foundation is practicality. It gives Hugo the impression that it’s exactly the sort of food a soldier would make.

 

“It’s edible.” he tells Archer, “Not a bad effort.”

 

“It pleases me to hear you say that.” Archer says, eating the omelette, “Is this truly ruined food? It seems fine to me.”

 

“Call that a difference in culture, I suppose.” Hugo finishes his bowl and starts to wash the dish, “For a soldier, I’m certain anything that comes freshly from an animal is a luxury.”

 

“Unless we happen across one in the early morning.” Archer stands and washes his own dish while passive-aggressively pushing Hugo away from the sink so that he can also wash Hugo’s, “In any case, the sun is becoming visible in the sky. Perhaps it is time we headed out.”

 

Hugo forces his way back in to wash his and Archer’s dish, “Yes, why don’t you get ready? I’ll take care of this.”

 

“No, I insist.”

 

“Listen, you didn’t even need to eat, but I did. That’s why I should clean the dishes I made.”

 

“On the contrary, I ate purely for leisure and thus I should wash the dishes. Eating out of obligation is no strike against you, but eating for pleasure is a different matter.”

 

The two continue to bicker about who should be the one to wash the dishes for a short while before realizing that as they did they were both washing and then have the opportunity to head out.

 

\----------

 

Assassin returns from a patrol in the morning to see Erin doing squats, half panicked. She looks like the squats aren’t even affecting her as much as mental stress is.

 

“Something wrong?” Assassin asks.

 

“I wasn’t actually prepared for this. I didn’t know we’d need to, like, face actual legit death.” she says.

 

“What did you think we’d do in the Holy Grail War?” Assassin shifts into his brash voice and falls onto a large chair.

 

“I thought it’d be Servants duking it out! That old dude wasn’t even a Master, right?”

 

“Oh, so it’s fine if we throw our lives away.” Assassin rolls his eyes but quickly grins, “I’m just joking. Obviously our time in this world is limited. Yeah.” He sharpens his gaze and becomes serious, “So I take it now you’re ready to start getting more real?”

 

“That depends.” Erin stops her exercise and holds out her hand. Assassin tosses her a cold water bottle, “Are we going to kill that kid?”

 

“Won’t lie. If it comes down to her or you, it’s no question. I’d always prioritize my Master.” He leans out over his seat, “But until we hit that roadblock, I’ll try and keep her around. Other Masters?”

 

“Berserker’s is obviously not someone I care to leave alive.” Erin says, “Once you take one life, you can’t go back. It’s as simple as that.”

 

“So does that mean you’d be fair game to kill even if you kill a killer?”

 

“It’d be hypocritical to say no.” Erin bites her lip. “I’m prepared to forfeit my right to life.”

 

\----------

 

Reaching the church is a simple matter in the middle of the day, but Archer notices that Hugo is already letting his sleepless night catch up to him in spite of his extra coffee. Hugo estimates he’ll hold it together long enough to chat with the officials and return for sleep. This is too important.

 

He runs into Barnaby de Clerk and is thankful that it wasn’t Winfield. He quickly shows de Clerk the Command Seals on his hand and he leads Hugo into a confessional where they can speak uninterrupted and in private.

 

“The War has already been in practice for a few days now.” de Clerk says, “You know that we at the Church must be impartial. Unless you’re intending to forefeit?”

 

“Not at all.” Hugo answers, trying to be nonchalant. “Just that something was quite odd. I spoke with a colleague of mine who said in records of previous Grail Wars, the connection between Master and Servant made identifying a Master somewhat simple. The connection would be very noticeable.” He explains, “And yet, not just our not knowing with absolute certainty if that bounded field popping up in the slums is a Master but also,” he steels himself, “I have been near the presence of another Master since the War’s beginning and neither of us noticed.”

 

“That brat, he didn’t tell me about this.” de Clerk mutters under his breath, “That is odd. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I should speak with Winfield immediately. If we learn anything, I’ll be sure to contact you.”

 

Hugo wonders how but then remembers the text message he and presumably the other Masters were sent recently. He returns to his apartment to get to sleep.

 

Afterwards, de Clerk heads to Martin’s quarters and opens the door, frustrated.

 

“Why and how did you sever the ability to read where a Master is?” he asks.

 

“Me?” Martin turns to de Clerk, a bag of potato chips in his hand and crumbs around his mouth. He doesn’t stop eating just because he’s talking, “I didn’t do anything. That was a happy coincidence. Think of it like this: most Grail Wars before this have happened in some podunk in the middle of nowhere with very little relationship with the magic community. A line of mana from A to B would be really conspicuous. But here, we’re in a hotbed of magic. Not just because the population’s high, but also because you’ve got a pretty big church here and, by extension, a lot of strong mages to check it. Obviously, there’s enough magical power to keep the charade going even when we’ve got giant gold bird dudes flying through the air like meteors. A small line of mana isn’t going to be blatant.” He twirls in his chair, “Or maybe I tweaked the system to make it harder to tell who’s a Master by altering the transfer rate of mana and making it act under a variable system based on proximity with other Masters. Who knows?”

 

“ _ You _ know.” That description was way too specific to not be the case.

 

“A little of both?” Martin answers coyly.

 

“But, why, though?”

 

“Because, and follow me on this,” Martin stands and raises a finger to de Clerk’s face, “I want this War to go on longer so that I can  _ research _ .” He turns and sits back down, smugly leaning on one elbow, “We’re in a good place with all these unassertive Masters to begin with. Wasn’t even intentional. Call that my luck?”

 

“Well, that’s the thing about unassuming people.” de Clerk replies, “They tend to be slow starters, but once they get going, they don’t stop.”

 

\----------

 

“Worthless! Worthless! Worthless!” Arad shouts as he pummels a wall with his fist, “Berserker, you’re damn worthless! You cost me nearly a half of my reserves as it is and with not a fucking thing to show for it.”

 

Berserker doesn’t even pay attention. He’s too busy staring in the mirror, examining his new shiny gold teeth. He grins like a kid in a candy store as he runs his fingers across the teeth one by one.

 

“Listen to me” Arad growls. Berserker turns slightly. Arad realizes that the promise of rewards isn’t working, so instead he should try the stick. “ If you don’t kill a Servant by sunrise I’m pulling your funding.” Arad sits back and kicks his feet up on the table, “And I’m not going to be giving you support tonight. I want you to prove to me you’re worth the mana.”

 

Berserker’s happiness shatters. His shoulders droop and start to shake.

 

“What, are you mad? It’s obvious, right? You don’t reward people who don’t get results.” Arad tosses one of Berserker’s bullions at the hulking giant. He can feel Berserker’s anger start to well up, directed at him. “That’s good. Use it.” Arad looks out the window, “Sun’s starting to set so there should be some areas that aren’t very populated.” He turns to Berserker, “Bye.”

 

\----------

 

“Saber.” Simone stares at an empty tea set in the dining hall, “It appears to be falling dark.”

 

“Yes.” He asserts, “I do not wish to force you to act so hastily. Wait until your mind is-”

 

“We will be going out tonight.” She says. Saber nods. If she’s going to be so insistent then so be it. He wouldn’t want Simone to waste a Command Seal forcing him to act in a way he is personally comfortable. They head out and locate Rider.

 

“Oh?” Rider looks around, seeing Saber in his full armor. Nobody’s there to witness the fight. Lucky them. “So, you’ve found me.”

“Your mana is overflowing.” Simone says, crossing her arms, “Either you have an amateur Master or you were intending to be found.”

“The latter.” Knowing that statement a lie, Rider stands from his seat to put on a facade of confidence. “Why go out and look when you can get people to come to you?”

“I would warrant a guess that it would be a waste of mana,” Saber says, “And furthermore, that in such an area a Servant could not fight to their full potential.”

“To be perfectly honest, it would serve me just as well if I could parlay with Saber. By virtue of class alone you’re the favorite to win this War, aren’t you?” Rider chuckles, “How fortunate. I certainly won’t complain about the hand I’ve been dealt, though.” He sits back down and motions for the others to join him for discussion.

“He appears rather sharp, despite seeming uncouth at a glance.” Saber keeps his hand at the ready to use his sword if need be and, assuring that Simone is in range to defend, moves in to speak with Rider.

“You should be aware,” Simone states plainly, “That our goal is to eliminate one another, yes?” Simone taps her foot on the ground, “For what purpose should we not take advantage of an unassisted Rider?”

“Well for one,” Rider twirls his gun out of its holster and into his hands, “Any sudden moves and I feel like I’m tough enough to get a few pops out of this baby.” He puts it back in, “And for two, I hear that I’ve got something that’d be invaluable in taking out… Caster, I assume?”

Simone knows that she’s unable to tell whether or not he’s bluffing. Not only has she not seen Rider’s skills, she hasn’t seen Caster’s, either.

 

“Be that as it may,” Simone says, raising a hand to her chin, “I am unsure as to how trustworthy that statement is. Saber, would it be unwise to not take our opportunity to strike at Rider?”

“I would not consider that to be a bad move.” he answers, “In fact, personally I would not wish give our enemy what he aims for.”

“Trick question! I’m fine either way!” Rider stands and both men draw their swords. They’re interrupted before the fight begins by a loud crack and look for its source.

Assassin quickly makes his presence public and he stands between them, “Oh, wait, wait. There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding here.” he says. “From what I know, Rider’s the only bastard in this War who’ll take out Caster with little incident.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Rider says, not sheathing his sword.

“But it’s true.” Assassin continues, “At the very least, you won’t be able to solo Caster.” Assassin says, directing his comment at Saber, “I didn’t see what exactly went down that night but ho boy, Caster made Berserker run like the demon king himself was out for blood.” Assassin smirks, “And given what I saw yesterday, you’re just barely a match for Berserker yourself.”

Simply mentioning the previous day causes Simone to avert her gaze and Saber to clench his sword more tightly.

“Choose your next words carefully.” Saber warns.

“Ah, what I wouldn’t do for some help here. Not the best talker…” Assassin pauses, then nods, “Yes. With all three of us here, I am fairly certain we can eliminate Caster tonight if we all go in together.” He’s primarily aiming his words to Saber, “Think of it not as assisting your enemies, but making a temporary truce to get past a hurdle you would otherwise be unable to pass.”

Saber turns to Simone, who bites her thumbnail in thought.

“I’ll warn you that every passing moment, Caster’s territory is expanding.”

“Very well.” Simone says with a sigh, “Saber, perhaps it would be for the best to trust them.”

 

“Wait a tick.” Rider raises his hand to quiet the others. He sniffs the air, “Can we put Caster on a rain check? Maybe we’ll meet here this time tomorrow to deal with her?” he chuckles, “Well, assuming we’re all still alive. But with three of us, I don’t doubt our chances.”

“Excuse me?” Simone asks. The ground shakes. Loud, crashing footsteps sound through the streets. Simone senses in her peripheral vision something changing - a light source is approaching.

“Not surprised.” Assassin readies his own weapons, “Three of us here, kind of a hotbed for someone looking for a kill.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH…” Berserker trudges into the city clearing, his movements as methodical as possible. One kill is all he needs. He looks over the three. Saber, he’s familiar with. Assassin looks slippery. Not one easily put down. Rider, though. Rider looks like the prime target.

Berserker grins widely as he draws his own sword. He motions with a quick tilt of his head towards Saber, as if to say that he can leave if he wishes. He does the same to Assassin then locks his sight on Rider.

“Well, make your decision.” Assassin crouches low with a knife in his left hand and his right positioned for easy access to throwing weapons, “Looks like he’s just going for Rider, and as long as Caster’s around, Rider’s got my protection.”

Saber takes the initiative, not waiting for Simone to give orders as even if she had, he would argue his case. “Obviously, there is no possible gain from leaving Berserker active.” He turns to stand alongside Assassin and Rider, “I could very nearly defeat him myself. With two other Servants, he stands little chance.” Saber raises his sword and steps up to confront Berserker.

 

The mad warrior grits his teeth. If he’s in a fight with all three, things become more complicated. Yet he cannot risk returning to his Master without having killed a Servant. Berserker breathes heavily and clutches his sword.

 

With one swift movement, Berserker kicks up a cloud of dust to blind Saber so that he can get through. With Saber in the battle, he moves straight for the easiest kill: Simone. To protect Saber’s Master, Assassin tosses his heavy chain at Berserker to slow his advance, following the chain with his own body. Rider sprints forward and parries the blow, but Berserker’s power blasts straight through it. The fraction of a second Rider’s sword blocked Berserker’s is just enough for Assassin to force Simone out of the attack’s way.

“I’d recommend getting lost, kid.” he says, pushing her out of the battle. Simone weakly gets to her feet. She understands that such an act is out of sympathy. Saber turns and focuses his power, grasping his sword firmly near the tip, and thrusts.

 

The strike lands squarely in Berserker’s back. It pierces through his armor. Saber needs to release his grip and force it through once again from the hilt of the sword. With his follow up thrust, Saber’s sword sticks out through Berserker’s chest, dripping with fresh blood.

“Foolish move.” Saber pulls the sword out from Berserker’s stomach, “I suppose it’s exactly what I should expect from Berserker. Your downfall was your inability to plan ahead.”

 

“HEATHEN…” Berserker growls through the blood dripping from his mouth. He’s grinding his golden teeth down in his rage, “I AM… GOD...  I SHALL NOT… LOSE…”

 

“Want to just finish this real quick?” Rider asks, taking his pistol out, “One shot right under the chin ought to do it.”

“Wait, he’s still moving.” Assassin steps back, “It’s for the best we allow him to bleed out. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” He looks at Saber, who seems to be getting prepared for a second round of combat, “Right, every man for himself I suppose. I’ll just be seeing myself out, then.”

“ **NO RETREAT!** ” Berserker howls, “ **NOW… END!** ”

 

Berserker’s entire body glows once more. It isn’t the same glow that they were used to. His glow before was gold, like the sun. This time, he’s glowing a deep crimson. Brighter and brighter until his entire body is glowing deep red. Steam rises from his armor and the very ground he stands upon bursts into flame from the intense heat emanating from his core. The entire battlefield is caked with the red light. There’s little doubt in Simone’s mind as to what she’s witnessing. Berserker calls out the True Name of his Noble Phantasm.

 

“ **QUEMAR LAS NAVES!** ”


	8. No Retreat

_ They took me in. _

 

_ They worshipped me as their God. _

 

_ Lost in my hubris and greed, I accepted it. I had not thought, “These men are humans, just the same as I. I would not be so foolish as to believe anyone who bleeds is a God.” Yet they treated me as such. They praised I, in my shining armor, as the return of their divine ruler. _

 

_ I believed their treatment was genuine. Little did I know, it was I who was being played the fool. As I looked down on all of them, laughing at the gullibility of the savages, I didn’t realize that they were the ones laughing at me for being so blindly trusting of them. _

 

_ “Look! Look at the clown who believes himself a God! He fails to realize such blatant treatment is facetious!” _

 

_ Gold sates my hunger. Blood quenches my thirst. Praise gives me relief. Yet I could not say any one of those are the most intense desires in my heart. Greed, anger, pride, all are nothing compared to my hatred. _

 

_ Hatred for my own countrymen who never gave me my proper respect. Hatred for those natives who looked down at me. But most of all, hatred for myself for falling to their tricks. So that I might not fall into despair, so that I might not regret everything I accomplished. _

 

_ I must be that God. _

 

\----------

 

“NO RETREAT…” Berserker’s voice is distorted. The heat emanating from his body warps the very air surrounding him. The fountain boils, evaporating rapidly. Nearby plants burst into flames. “NO SURRENDER…”

 

“Saber!” Simone clutches her fist. “We need to get back!”

 

Berserker gets distracted briefly by the obvious fleeing opponent. He turns and fixes his gaze on Assassin.

 

“OOOOH… **ORRROOOOOOOOOOOGGGGHHHH!!!** ”

 

Like a rocket, Berserker takes off and slams his shoulder into Assassin. The heat from his body melts off the clothes as they come in contact, leaving festering burns in the flesh. Berserker stomps furiously. The asphalt where his foot lands melts and he leaves his target a pile of festering meat.

 

Assassin, in the meantime, breathes a sigh of relief having managed to slink back into the shadows, unnoticed by Berserker, with a body duplication technique. ( _ “That was close. Yeah, I’m not going to bother him when he’s like that.” _ ) he thinks, sending his message to Erin, ( _ “We might’ve lucked our way into an advantage here.”) _

 

\----------

 

“Damn!” Arad feels a heat coming from the living room. When he goes in, he sees Berserker’s funds up in flames. The fire engulfs the entire area. Magical in nature, emergency sprinklers aren’t even slowing its expansion. “What did that bastard do?!” Arad thinks whether or not he has the time to retrieve his safety deposit box. The rate the flames are expanding, there’s no way that the building is standing for much longer. He risks it. He’ll get the box when it’s safe once more. Arad leaps out of his window and sprints at full pace to clear out his area.

 

\----------

 

“Retreat clearly will not be an option.” Saber readies his shield and slams his sword against it to draw Berserker’s attention, “At least, not for me. Lady Simone, prioritize your own safety!”

 

“I refuse to merely leave you alone!” Simone says, but she follows his advice and retreats into an alley where Berserker won’t be able to see. She ducks behind a dumpster and holds her hand up to cast support for Saber.

 

As she begins, Saber feels the heat become more manageable. Hardly pleasant, but far from being inside an erupting volcano.

 

“If he’s content drawing attention to himself,” Rider thinks aloud, “I’ll make my exit as well.” He scurries behind the fountain and into the sewer. He’s not some prideful knight. Obviously Rider is more than content to wade through the muck to avoid a Noble Phantasm if possible. “Best of luck, Saber.” Rider mutters under his breath.

 

“DORAAAAAAAA!” Berserker charges at Saber. He readies his gauntlets and takes wild swipes at Saber. Even a single clean hit means victory and Saber knows this as well. Saber’s plan is obvious. A powerful Noble Phantasm like this can’t possibly be sustained for long. So he has to survive until it’s passed. Though he’s faster, especially in dash speed, Berserker’s arm movements are comparatively sluggish compared to a boosted Saber.

 

But even still, a glancing blow leaves heavy burns on Saber’s body through his armor. He backs up as much as possible, taking care not to become cornered. Berserker begins to laugh. He’s amused at Saber so desperately struggling for survival.

 

For a moment, Saber contemplates using his own Noble Phantasm. If there were any time to call its true name, this would be it. However, unless he is certain to die without it, he wouldn’t want to risk showing his Noble Phantasm to three enemies. Saber focuses himself. Defense is ineffective. Thus, he must bet it on one gambit. He tosses his dented and half-melted shield into Berserker’s line of sight.

 

“Lady!” Saber cries. He’s desperate to see if she can offer assistance.

 

Simone seems to catch on and pours all her mana into rapidly cooling the shield as it melts. The metal splashes onto Berserker’s face and freezes in place. Were Simone not so powerful as a magus, in addition to Saber’s shield being resistant to the magical heat emanating from Berserker, her cooling would never hold up for more than a fraction of a second.

 

Yet by a miracle, it does. It buys what feels like an eternity’s respite as Berserker flails blindly, his vision suppressed by the metal. He rapidly comes to the realization and slams his fist against the shield, shattering it to pieces that boil against his skin.

 

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” One more strike. Saber realizes that without his shield, he can’t avoid it.

 

However, all of a sudden the strike falls flat. The heat is gone and the strike is unlike that of a Berserker’s.

 

The birdlike armor is blackened from the heat. The straps burnt to ash, all the plates fall to the ground, leaving Berserker fully exposed.

 

He is muscular, but not at all like he appeared before. His expression is more frightened. His face not that of a warrior but of a nobleman’s. Simply looking at him, there is no way that he is even a fraction as powerful as he was before. Berserker breathes heavily, panicked. He’s grateful that Rider and Assassin both have exited the field before his time limit ran out.

 

“How unfortunate.” Saber slams his melted gauntlet against his side to shatter the armor which had fused together from the heat, “If you had just one second longer…”

 

“Wait.” Simone steps out from behind the dumpster. “Let him go.”

 

“Lady Simone!”

 

“Let him go.” she repeats. Her expression does not hold any mercy behind it. Saber sheathes his sword and Simone proceeds to begin mending his wounds. Berserker certainly isn’t completely unaware and turns to flee.

 

“Naturally.” Simone says, “Now we follow him.” Saber nods. Simone’s intent has reached him. She is not concerned so much with Berserker. Berserker’s Master, on the other hand, has received the full force of her hatred. Saber sighs at the thought.

 

\----------

 

“Haah, haah, haaah…” Berserker pants, rushing through backstreets. It would be strange to think that such a man was proudly stomping through the area earlier. He’s moving like a cornered rat, desperate to return to his Master.

 

Seated upon the Giotto Bell Tower, Archer locks his sight on Berserker. He stands and readies his bow. There is no doubt that he could make a shot from this distance, but Archer is not certain whether that would be the best decision. He would consult with Hugo, but he doesn’t want to disturb his Master’s sleep after he spent a night without a wink.

 

What he doesn’t expect is that he has no need to take a shot.

 

Berserker stumbles and trips, cracking his teeth against the asphalt. As he is about to get up, a lance is thrust smoothly through his abdomen and pierces his heart. He removes the spear just as smoothly, now coated in fresh, deep crimson blood. As he wipes his weapon clean, Lancer stands over Berserker’s corpse and waits.

 

“No hard feelings, eh?” he asks. Lancer turns and sees Saber and Simone, who stop trying to be stealthy now that Berserker has been killed. The giant warrior has started to dissipate into a golden glow. “Finished this one off for you.”

 

“You should be aware that he was not moving so quickly I would be unable to give chase.” Saber says, “What exactly is your intent?”

 

“Oh, I didn’t notice you guys were there. I don’t know how you got Berserker in this state but, damn. I’m more than willing to give you guys the credit for this kill.”

 

“That was of no concern to us.” Saber clenches his fist.

 

“I still had a reason to keep him alive for just a few moments longer.” Simone is giving Lancer a look like she wants to stab him in the throat.

 

“Sorry about that, you should let other people know what you’re thinking I guess.” Lancer shrugs, “In any case, that’s one down, five to go.” He turns and slings his leg over his motorcycle, “I take it you aren’t going to be trying to cut me off? You guys look absolutely bushed.” Lancer chuckles and turns his bike around, realizing what he just said, “Actually, make that four to go.”

 

An arrow strikes the ground in front of Lancer’s tire. There’s a note tied to it, so he takes it and reads the message. Nothing important to him. Just threats.

 

“Oh. Archer says hi.” he crumples up the paper and tosses it in front of the motorcycle to shred it up as he drives away. “You guys must be sitting under a lucky star! But I’ll change that sooner or later!”

 

\----------

 

Waking up to good news wasn’t what Hugo expected. Archer informed him that Berserker had been killed.

 

“That’s a relief, to say the least. Out of everyone, that man seemed the most dangerous.” Hugo says as he balances the beans to make his coffee properly proportioned.

 

“But I should say,” Archer adds, “It appears as if Saber and his Master wanted something more from him. They could have finished him off much sooner than he was.” Of course, Archer’s eyesight is sharp enough to snipe but his ears don’t need such acuity.

 

“That’s not important. What I need to know is the who, what, where and how. The why is optional.” Hugo replies, “And now tonight I think it would be good to make plans for our who, what, why, where, how and why.”

 

“Aside from Berserker, Lancer is the most proactive of the Servants, I believe.” Archer says, “Additionally, he possesses that vehicle. It would be for the best to locate him and take him out from afar.”

 

“That so.” Hugo’s voice droops, “Lancer, huh?”

 

“Master. I have a piece of advice to give you, if you will listen to a humble retainer.” Archer says, standing and putting his hand on Hugo’s shoulder, “Do not allow doubt to cloud your mind. While it was unintended, you have been the target of psychological warfare.” He steps back and strokes his beard, “It is for the best that you try and forget anything you may know about Lancer’s Master. It was a lie to begin with.”

 

“I understand that much.” Hugo says, “At the same time, I’m not prepared to take someone’s life. Call me out on that if you want, but it’s not a burden I want on my shoulders.”

 

“Your dedication is admirable.” Archer says, though he is somewhat perturbed that one would be unwilling to kill an enemy, he chooses not to make that known. “For your sake, my Lord, I shall target Servants over Masters.” he says with a bow, “In particular, Lancer’s Master strikes me as the type who would flee to the Church once her Servant has been slain.”

 

“That’s a relief, at least.” Hugo answers, “Thank you for bearing with me, Archer.”

 

“Not at all.” Archer stands again, “Seeing the look of gratitude on my Lord’s face fills me with vigor.”

 

“Right, then.” Hugo cracks an egg into the frying pan, “Let’s discuss our plans. Like you said, it probably is for the best we eliminate Lancer. How do you suppose we should do it?”

 

“If I were to come up with an ideal plan,” Archer scratches his chin while he thinks, “It would require another ally to gather his attention. That is not a luxury we have in this War, and I doubt we should be able to get it so easily.”

 

“Saber might agree to it.” Hugo says.

 

“He might. Would you want us to track down Saber today, for that plan?”

 

“If at all possible.” Hugo says. He turns to the eggs. “Right. Let’s not worry on the big picture. As long as we survive, that’s the important thing. Take things as they come.” as he talks, Archer looks upon him. “Oh, I’m just thinking out loud. I was wondering if we should be worrying about Servants other than Lancer, but it’s best we take things one step at a time rather than get cold feet and not move at all, don’t you?”

 

“Agreed. We can negotiate with other Masters to siege Caster, but Lancer is a different story.”

 

\----------

 

Early in the morning, trying to appear nonchalant, Arad walks down the street of his old hotel. Obviously there are people investigating. The fire of Berserker’s Noble Phantasm couldn’t be quelled by nonmagical means and it took a fairly large segment of the building down before it wore off, about a dozen rooms’ worth. It’s a big enough deal that his scanning over it wouldn’t look very suspicious.

 

“Looking for something?” Juniper asks. He spins around immediately and steps back. She takes her hands from her pockets and shows she’s unarmed, “Easy there. I’m not your enemy. Why don’t we have a little chat?”

 

“I don’t have anything to talk to you about.” he answers.

 

“Not even the vials of what I presume to be blood of a phantasmal species?” she replies. He turns to her, “I’m not exactly an expert but the shine and the mana content are pretty fancy.” She smirks, “I see I’ve caught your attention. Strengthening the safe works for most damages but, well, breaking through it isn’t really hard for someone like Lancer.” She narrows her gaze, “So mind reconsidering your answer?”

 

\----------

 

“And then, the guy’s like, ‘fwoom!’ and he was all glowing and stuff!” Assassin motions wildly with his arms, “He charges right at me all wildlike! Boy, we sure were fortunate I got out of there. Noble Phantasms, like, I expected something impressive but that was something else!”

 

“You aren’t being very clear with me, Assassin.” Erin forces a smile, “Why don’t we cut down to the who, what, where, why and how?”

 

“Right.” Assassin calms himself, “Berserker has been slain. His Master might be dead as well, but I was unwilling to follow Saber.” Erin starts up the shower and motions for him to continue talking but to sit facing away from the bathroom as she cleans up. “We had discussed meeting with Saber and Rider tonight so that we might assault Caster’s territory. However,” Assassin shrugs, “We didn’t really finalize anything.”

 

“Then why don’t you go talk with the two of them today?” she asks, “We know where Saber is and finding Rider shouldn’t be too difficult. He hasn’t exactly made efforts to hide his mana.”

 

“That was my plan. So, you want me to go check on ‘em?”

 

“That’d be nice.”

 

\----------

 

Aliah is awakened by the sounds of shouting rather than the usual construction. She sighs and heads out to see what the commotion is about. Outside, locals are taking issue with Caster for her hostile takeovers of the area surrounding the hotel and progressively gaining more and more land.

 

“We don’t want big business taking over our families!”

 

“If you wanted a freaking amusement park you should’ve bought land in the countryside!”

 

“Down with gentrification!”

 

“Advanced word for a plebeian.” Aliah mumbles as she heads into the office, where Caster is currently adjusting a rug. “You want to go out there and handle this, Caster?”

 

“No time. No time. This is no good.” She pushes the rug, “Give me some help. Like this, or like this?”

 

“Either way it’s going to look awkward and misaligned.” Aliah steps on the rug and Caster gasps.

 

“That’s perfect! Now then, the paintings…” Caster goes to tilt one painting, playing with the angle.

 

“That’s going to give me such a headache.” Aliah sighs. She tries to play on Caster’s mentality, “You sure interior decor is the right choice now? Shouldn’t the workers be directed?”

 

“Oh, they have a manager who finally has gotten the hang of things. They’ll be fine.” Caster steps back to examine the painting and steps forward again to check again, “Can you get the water balance?” Aliah complies. Caster continues, “The structure will be fine but they have very particular tastes. The office, though, I don’t trust anyone but me to understand the proper aesthetic.”

 

“So have you heard the people outside?”

 

“You’ve started to hear them as well?”

 

“No, I mean the real people.” Aliah considers sitting down but is worried that doing so might upset something about Caster’s maddened sense of feng shui, “There are locals upset about you buying out nearby establishments.”

 

“Oh, oh, oh, that’s not good not good at all.” Caster turns to Aliah, “Always so busy, busy. Be a dear and handle them, will you? I’ve fallen behind schedule..”

 

“‘Handle them.’ Do you mean, like,” Aliah glances at Caster’s rifle.

 

“No! No not at all! Bad karma is something you definitely want to avoid.” Caster hands her a dog whistle, which Aliah stares at with a sort of emptiness, not really surprised at such a strange gift, “Use this.”

 

Curious, but as a Caster she should be able to make magical items. Aliah steps out into the courtyard and rather than trying to reason with the people, she blows the whistle. No sound comes out but as if a wave of relief washed over them, the people sigh and relax. One of Caster’s brainwashed figures, presumably the manager, starts to give them orders and they start to assist with the constant renovations in the hotel complex.

 

\----------

 

The fountain area where Rider had gathered money before is still wrecked from Berserker. It’s currently under inspection. He didn’t think of that and as he’s going to start entertaining the others but with the circumstances he removes his hat and holds it to his chest in respect before deciding to head back. As he does so, Assassin grabs him by the shoulder.

 

“Hey, we still on for taking out Caster tonight?” Assassin asks.

 

“Not like I have other plans.”

 

“Cool. All I wanted to ask.” Assassin says as he dashes away.

 

\----------

 

Juniper took Arad to a terribly received gelato shop to speak with him. To look less conspicuous, the two had to order something. She added an extra tip and told the worker to make himself scarce and give them privacy.

 

“So, why speak with me?” Arad asks, chewing on the plastic spoon rather than the dessert.

 

“I want to let you know we’re friends.” she says, “We killed Berserker for you.” Arad stands and slams his hands on the table. “Easy there bud.” Juniper sits him down, “He was on his way back to your place, tailed by Saber. I don’t know what you did to piss off the princess but I could tell she’s out for blood. It was either meeting her this morning or me.”

 

“Nothing but a burden.” Arad rolls his fingers across the table, “I’m glad he’s dead.”

 

“How heartless.” she answers, “Granted, that just means you’re a halfway decent magus. Good to know.” Arad glares at her, “Hey, don’t give me the stink eye. You  _ were  _ the first elimination of the War, after all.”

 

“It was that bastard’s stupidity!” Arad slams his fist against the table in a rage. “Were you hoping only to slander my name?!”

 

“Not at all.” Juniper sits back, “I wanted to work alongside you. See, in this sort of scenario, doubling Lancer’s mana pool? I get the feeling it’d make him downright invincible.”

 

“I know what you’d get out of it, but I’m not so stupid I’d offer you my mana without some incentive.”

 

She sighs. “Money? No, I guess a magus doesn’t need that.” Juniper thinks, “Revenge?”

 

“I’m not so emotional that I want to get one over on that kid or anyone else. If Saber’s Master wants me dead, the smartest thing to do is to get out of here.”

 

“How about those five vials, then?” Arad flinches at those words, “I know it isn’t really my specialty but I get the feeling if you return home without at least those, you’ll get a stern talking to.” She reads his expression for a crack in his composure, “Or worse?”

 

\----------

 

Even if there’s still someone to make the tea, Simone thinks as she glares at the reflection of the sun in her pristine cup, it isn’t anywhere near as good. She wonders if it’s because everyone has a different preference for the relative strength and anyone other than Klaus hasn’t reached her personal golden ratio.

 

“Anyway,” Saber speaks up to break the silence, clearly antsy. He wants to talk seriously, “Are you intending on abandoning the Grail War to chase after Berserker’s Master?”

 

“Not at all. We still should focus on the task at hand.” Simone says, “To be honest, though, if an opportunity presents itself…”

 

“That is a reasonable stance. It alleviates some of my concern.” Saber glances out the window, “A noble who cannot dole out justice has no right to hold power.” He walks over to her side, “That said, you already seem to understand how to prioritize.” He smiles. While he feels empathy for her loss, Saber realizes the benefit to Simone’s maturation that it brought along with it.

 

Assassin taps at the window, causing Saber to rush over and materialize his armor. Assassin shakes his head and puts his hands behind his back, clinging to the wall with his feet somehow. Saber turns his attention to Simone, who aloofly waves her hand as if to allow him entrance.

 

“I was checking to see if the situation had changed.” Assassin explains. “We had intended on assaulting Caster tonight. Am I to assume you haven’t altered your position?”

 

“That depends on Rider.” Simone answers. If he really is so integral to the operation she wouldn’t want to rush into danger without him.

 

“He’s still in.”

 

“In that case, why would I decline?” Simone asks. Assassin nods and quickly makes his exit, ensuring Saber sees him leave. No reason to get them paranoid just yet.

 

\----------

 

Right as Hugo is about to head out, his phone rings. He picks up, “Not a text message?”

 

“It’s a little more involved.” his friend answers, “I thought I recognized your girlfriend’s name-”

 

“Ex.” Hugo cuts him off.

 

“Right, ex-girlfriend. In any case I looked into it. Long story short, you dodged a bullet.” Hugo hears him adjust his seat and the sound of a cup of what he presumes to be coffee getting poured. “Her father called it Lamarckian Record.”

 

“Explain from the start, Graham.” Hugo sighs exasperatedly. They weren’t researching this sort of stuff. Too busy on the biological studies.

 

“Right. Well, for starters, you’re aware that one generation can swing an entire mage family’s future all the way to the other.” he says, “Circuits can die. Heirs can be incompetent. Or on the other hand, rare skills or prodigies can manifest.”

 

“This one of those cases?”

 

“Probably. The Boreas patriarch regrettably was rather vague but he posited a theory that if a family dedicated themselves to studying how to effectively connect magic circuits, they could come up with a method with which they could acquire them from other people, without their knowledge, even.”

 

“I don’t follow your logic, man.” Hugo rubs his forehead, “Explain it to me like I’m in second grade.”

 

“Of course.” Graham thinks, “There are certain circumstances where one is naturally more susceptible to direct alterations on their circuits. These sort of moments are typically used for rituals that connect magus lineages. If I’m reading this right, he theorized that such an intimate connection from circuit to circuit, with no barriers, opens up some frightening possibilities.”

 

“If I follow what you’re getting at,” Hugo says, “This Boreas guy experimented on his kid to make her drain people’s mana?”

 

“Not exactly.” he answers, “That’s a lot easier than what we’re talking about. From what I gather, the Boreas theory of the Lamarckian Record is that it would essentially scan over a Mystic Crest and shave off a piece of it. It’s not really my field of study so I can’t say for certain.”

 

“So she tears a page out of the book rather than burning it for energy.” Hugo says, “That’s more frightening in a way.”

 

“Yes. It’s purely hearsay but word has it that it doesn’t require such a thing, although an intimate moment such as that is a very opportune moment. From the way Boreas spoke, even he was afraid of the Lamarckian Record. He says that if a magus were born with such a skill, it wouldn’t be unthinkable that even their parents would distance themselves.”

 

“Wait, are you talking to me purely about a magical theory you read about?” Hugo asks.

 

“It was very specific.” Graham replies, matter-of-factly, “Also, well, it’s telling that this paper was published 12 years ago. And if I were to guess that’d probably line up very well with a timeframe for a parent to realize their child has a rare skill and to analyze what it is, given the prospective age of Ms. Boreas.”

 

Hugo sighs, “That doesn’t mean your gut feeling is correct. Lamarckian Record? I don’t buy it.”

 

“She ever talk about her parents?” Graham asks.

 

“Said she didn’t know them very well.” He pauses, as if he can see Graham spreading his arms in that ‘you see’ gesture, “That doesn’t mean anything, she was probably lying to me.”

 

“Either way you see my point.” Graham says, “She’s either a liar or a criminal. I hope I can steel your resolve to make it out of this alive.” His tone becomes deathly serious, “Don’t break your promise because you’d rather be Don Quixote.” and he hangs up immediately. Hugo just imagines Graham patting himself on the back for that last line even though his tone didn’t really match his words.

 

“He is far from wrong.” Archer says, sitting in front of the apartment’s window. When Hugo raises an eyebrow, he shakes his head. Obviously. A Servant, in particular a sniper, will have much sharper senses. “It would be for the best you not think too hard about this.”

 

“I’m not exactly the one to talk to when it comes to preserving self-interest.” Hugo replies, “I’ll be honest for a second. The only reason I didn’t hide out in the Church after making you kill yourself is because I don’t think the other Masters should kill each other like savages.”

 

“That seems to be a poor decision.”

 

“Maybe. But I’m going to act in accordance with how I want the world to be, not with how I think it is.” Hugo clenches his fists tightly, “Too often things end poorly because we resign ourselves with the practical option or the choice that’s best for ourselves rather than the right one.”

 

“Hm.” Archer stands, “You truly are my Master.”


	9. Coniferous Schemeing

Simone has Saber act as her chauffeur, driving around town in a limousine. She plans on sending out pings of mana to scan through the area, not dissimilar to sonar. As soon as she exits the premises, Saber halts the car. He steps out, wary.

 

Lancer blocks the driveway, on his motorcycle with his own Master in tow.

 

“We’re here to chat.” Juniper says. Saber glances back to Simone, who crosses her arms and turns away from the two of them. “I’ve got information you might want.” Still no reply. Juniper shrugs, “Not in a talkative mood, huh? Then I’ll cut to the chase. For various circumstances, I’ve got Berserker’s Master in my care.”

 

That gets her attention.

 

“Yeah, I ran into him and thought you scratch my back, I scratch yours. See, I want you to know that I’m a friend. And as a friend, I thought it’d be nice to give you a little present. I don’t really mind if he dies. He’s an ex-Master and quite frankly he’s quite rude.” She turns her attention to Saber, “She wants to get at him personally for some reason, yeah?”

 

“She should think about it.” Saber says, “That is a rather large decision. For the moment, please step aside so we need not take this to blows.”

 

“My, pushy.” Lancer leans forward in his seat, “It isn’t chivalrous to speak for a lady, you know.” Saber pays him no mind.

 

“At least think about it. I’ll keep an eye on him for you. Make sure he doesn’t do anything crazy.”

 

Without another word, Saber reenters the vehicle. Lancer glances over his shoulder to Juniper as the car drives away.

 

“Let’s get going. We’ve laid our foundation.” she says. Lancer nods and starts up the engine. “What do you say we try and go for a double yolk in this egg?”

 

“Weird metaphor, my Master!”

 

\----------

 

Piazzale Michelangelo. Hugo carries a vial of liquid with him and drips some onto the ground. This is his plan. No more messing around. Once complete, he continues on his path. From tonight forward, he and Archer will be fighting to win.

 

They travel across the city, placing more drops in areas where there are high views that cover a wide distance. Archer doesn’t question any of Hugo’s actions, until they stop so Hugo can get his lunch.

 

_ (“If I may be so bold,”) _ Archer starts.

 

_ (“It’s alchemy. Typically a very boring spell that allows for fast travel of familiars.”) _ Hugo explains as he bites into a lampredotto sandwich, savoring the tender fattiness. He can’t help but have a smile cross his lips even when speaking of serious matters with that sort of food.  _ (“Usually it’s kind of useless since familiars don’t need to travel much faster than regularly. Only good if you want to relay messages quickly.”) _

 

_ (“Though that does sound quite practical.”) _

 

_ (“We live in an era of phones, Archer. And a lot of us Atlas Students aren’t so stuck up and conservative that we wouldn’t take advantage of that. In any case, the spell. It’s not really that good since there’s no reason to want to speed the transfer of a familiar. However…”) _

 

_ (“A Servant’s spiritual body is a different matter.”) _

 

_ (“Exactly.”) _

 

_ (“It is truly ideal for my purposes. Good idea.”) _ Archer pauses to let Hugo indulge in another bite before he speaks again.  _ (“So, who shall we target? I should be capable of striking down any.”) _

 

_ (“Let’s see. Berserker has been killed. Caster’s hiding out. Rider and Assassin, not real threats. And Saber, well, part of me wants to keep her around for now.”) _

 

_ (“So Lancer then?”) _

 

Hugo stops moving. He feels his hands tense up, sending a greasy trickle down his arm which he swiftly wipes at with a napkin.  _ (“On second thought, we should spend one more night in preparations. Today we’ll test if the plan will function and tomorrow we can get a kill.”) _

 

_ (“It is a wise decision to make dedicated preparations.”) _ Archer says,  _ (“I support this idea.”) _

 

\----------

 

“Morning.” Christine scratches her head as she wipes the weariness from her face. Rider fills a mug with instant coffee and pours some water in. He thinks a moment then looses a pistol shot into the air, grabbing the bullet in his fingertips, and places the hot barrel onto the cup to boil the water. A mundane but useful trick.

 

“Been a while since we’ve had a chat.” Rider says, “You’ve been just letting me go out for the most part. And getting up late.”

 

“Well without a job I’m kind of unmotivated and have been staying up longer than I really should.” Christine says, taking the cup, “Wish this, wish that, life’s a journey, not a destination.” She sighs, “Would it be so bad if I started going to work again? We haven’t really been, y’know, going out on patrol together or anything.”

 

“I got a bad feeling that blue collar work is in some trouble right now.” Rider answers, “Call it a hunch. Let’s give it a few more days. As much as I don’t want to quit, I wouldn’t want to put anyone else out.” Rider pats her on the shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, missy, you just sit tight. You’d just get in the way anyhow.”

 

Suddenly, a knock at the door. Furiously pounding on it. Christine opens the door.

 

“Something wrong, Chris?! I heard gunshots!”

 

“Oh, those weren’t gunshots.” she immediately answers, “They were…” She turns to Rider for an idea. He lifts a sofa and drops it, creating a loud crash. “My uncle has no tact in moving furniture.”

 

\----------

 

While jogging, Erin stops and turns to a tall tower. Assassin starts laughing, noticing why she stopped.

 

_ (“Not very subtle, is it!”) _ Assassin says,  _ (“ _ Loud _ mana signature, ten o’clock. Could their trap  _ be  _ more obvious?”) _

 

_ (“You want to check that place out?”) _ she asks,  _ (“It’s an obvious mana trail and from the feel of it it extends pretty dang far.”) _

 

They go for it, but have no luck in identifying what exactly it is. It should be expected, most mages aren’t as well versed in alchemy to know obscure spells at a glance. She doesn’t even notice the other young woman waiting for her.

 

“This yours?” Juniper asks.

 

“What? No. Yours?” Erin responds. She strikes Juniper as being rather blase for someone who just ran into another Master, but in a fairly populated area in the middle of the day, understandable that she wouldn’t be exactly tense.

 

“Might be.” Juniper sits back and looks out the window, “But it isn’t. I wouldn’t be so damn blatant about my plans. So I’m hanging here and waiting for whoever put this up - though I have my suspicions - to pass by if possible.”

 

“That so?”

 

“Since I’ve got you here anyway,” Juniper stands and approaches Erin, “I remembered that I was wanting to speak with you. Or at least with Assassin.”

 

“Yeah?” Assassin speaks, but doesn’t enter into a material state.

 

“Let’s be real here. In terms of tangible threats, Archer is probably the highest. Well, him or Saber.” she says, “But what if I told you I had a surefire way to knock at least  _ one  _ of them out of the fight and potentially both?”

 

“I’d say talk to me tomorrow because we’re planning on teaming with Saber to off Caster tonight.” Assassin responds snidely, “But tomorrow’s real close so I’m listening.”

 

“All you have to do is find me where Archer’s Master is staying and let me take care of the rest. That’s the only info I want, and after that you can wash your hands of anything else.”

 

“It would be practical to agree if this is so certain.” Assassin says.

 

“I want to know what exactly this plan is.” Erin snaps in, “If it isn’t something I’d do, I don’t want to help you do it.”

 

“Oh, it’s nothing hugely important. Simply tell Saber’s Master where Archer’s Master is living. Obviously she’ll take the opportunity to eliminate another Servant, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, but see, there’s something of a problem there. Saber might want to save Archer for later.” Assassin chimes in, “After all, out of everyone in this war, Archer’s probably the best fighter.”

 

“Perhaps. But I can assure you, the little girl won’t be able to resist. I know that for a fact.”

 

“I want it officiated.” Erin says, “I’ll go along with your plan, but if it ends with neither Saber nor Archer being knocked out of the competition, I want you to use a Command Seal that’ll force Lancer to yield to Assassin any time they fight.”

 

“Woah, woah, wait!” Lancer speaks up. Juniper raises a hand to still him.

 

“Fine by me. I’m not just confident this will work.” Juniper says. At her word, the red mark on the back of her hand glows and fades away, locking in the command. “I’m certain.”

 

Lancer bites his lip at a Command Seal being wasted on such a foolish order, especially when Juniper hasn’t even told him what she’s up to. He can piece together a basic idea but is perturbed at the thought of her making such a steep command so readily. She’s betting the entire possibility of winning the War on this.

 

\----------

 

As the sun sets over the horizon, Assassin sits atop a roof near the increasingly expansive hotel complex along with Erin. She’s holding a thermos full of soup for a fast dinner. When she offers some to him, Assassin raises a hand to turn it down.

 

“Getting kind of close.” Assassin says. He jumps to his feet and scans over the area, “Think they’re going to be a no-show?”

 

“Maybe. Wouldn’t blame them, to be perfectly honest. I mean, trusting an Assassin?”

 

“I’ll have you know that hired killers are  _ more  _ trustworthy. We may not give a crap about honor, but it’s because of that we’ll get our hands dirty for the sake of our lords.” Assassin sits back down and crosses his arms, as if pouting, “A self-righteous knight is more interested in preserving their damn honor than getting the job done.” He turns to Erin, flaming with passion, “Honor slaughters innocents and destroys villages! All in the name of your own self-satisfaction! Feed it to the dogs!”

 

Erin raises her hands up defensively and drops them as a dull silence descends over the two. Assassin sighs, “Sorry about that. Your Servant just had some bad memories rise up all of a sudden.”

 

“No need to apologize.” Erin scoots forward and pats Assassin on the shoulder, “It’s good to know I can trust you. Even if the logic is kind of weird, I get what you’re talking about.”

 

“And of course,” Assassin stands and points to Rider, making his way down the street, “It’s the scoundrel who shows up first.” he leaps from the building, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” Assassin says to the sailor.

 

“My word is my bond.” Rider replies, “Not living by rules ends up with someone’s toes being stepped on.”

 

“You seem kind of like an outlaw from where I’m standing.” Erin says as she descends carefully from the building, reinforcing her legs to soften the impact.

 

“Make no mistake. I speak of following my own rules, not anyone else’s.” Rider says with a laugh, “You know, simple rules. Don’t lie. Don’t cheat. Don’t drink when you have a job to do. That kind of stuff.” Rider puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs, “But that’s a digression for another time. We got Saber to help us out?”

 

“I’m not so sure myself.” Assassin answers, “But we’ll get back onto the roof so as to not draw undesired attention, yeah?”

 

Once sun sets, Saber and Simone approach the area. Assassin immediately leaps to his feet and jumps in front of them.

 

“Certainly took your sweet time, princess.” Assassin says, crossing his arms, “You know, when someone says ‘meet at five’ it’s generally a good idea to show up at 4:45.”

 

“Pardon me?” Simone asks.

 

“He’s just a little antsy because of nerves.” Erin explains. She yanks Assassin back and coaxes him to bow in apology. “We have other plans tonight so he wants to get this through with sooner rather than later.”

 

“Woah, uh, yeah, but,” Assassin leans closer to Erin and lowers his voice to an imperceptible whisper, “Don’t tell  _ them  _ that.”

 

“In any case, we’re all together. We don’t know what Caster’s got up her sleeve.” Rider taps his foot against the ground, “So before we head in let’s strategize.”

 

“Strategize nothing, it’s obvious what we go for.” Assassin says.

 

“Right.” Erin explains, “Rider, you’ll take point. There’s going to be some gunfire so get ready for that. Saber will back you up.” she turns to Saber and Simone, “You’ll go back to back, right? Keep his movement free. Meanwhile,” she then turns to Assassin, “Assassin will search the premises for Caster’s Master. That’s our win condition, naturally.”

 

“No objections.” Rider says.

 

“It is somewhat crude.” Saber says, “But with how little we know of Caster’s capability, I believe that is our best bet.”

 

“Right.” Simone says, “As for my role…?”

 

“Oh, you just sit back here and we’ll wait.” Erin extends her hand to Simone, “It’s not safe to go into a Caster’s home turf. We’ll just tie them down.”

 

“I can take care of myself.” Simone says, “Thank you for your consideration, miss?”

 

“Oh, uh, Rutherford. Erin Rutherford.”

 

“Miss Rutherford. However, I am the heiress to the illustrious Luitgard family line. I am not one to be so fragile that even with two Servants protecting me I would be put in dramatic danger.”

 

“Well okay then. Suit yourself.”

 

“Then let’s get the show on the road!” Rider hitches up his belt and draws his sword. He spits on the ground and charges straight into the hotel complex.

 

“Hey, wait!” Assassin sprints in after him, muttering complaints under his breath, “Reckless and undisciplined.”

 

“Well then.” Saber unsheathes his sword and steps into the complex with Simone close behind him. Erin sighs and sits down next to a nearby building. As they ran into Caster’s territory, a spell encompassed them. No matter what chaos may go on inside, it looks like a regular business from where she’s sitting.

 

_ (Hm.) _ Rider thinks as he starts smacking workers with the blunt of his sword, ensuring to only knock them out. They’re all brainwashed, but he can tell from the state of their bodies that Caster’s been working all of them to the bone. Rider scowls at the thought of it.  _ (I’m feelin’ particularly selfish tonight. Sorry, Missy.) _

 

Rifles begin to stick out from the buildings, firing wave after wave of bullets at Rider. He grits his teeth and flexes his body from head to toe. Each shot stings but not a single pierces his skin. “Gonna have to try harder than that! I’m bulletproof, don’t you know?!” Rider shouts with a laugh, “Let me show you how it’s done!” He tosses his sword aside. Saber shields Simone, noticing a surge of mana coming off of Rider. “ **ROYAL FORTUNE!** ”

 

On unleashing the true name of his Noble Phantasm, Rider lifts his leg and stomps it into the ground. Before his boot makes contact with dirt, a wooden boat has begun to form around him. The sails pitch black and the sides lined with row after row of cannon, it makes it abundantly clear to Saber that Rider was no privateer but a true to heart pirate.

 

“Rider, are you mad?!” Saber shouts, “Opening with your Noble Phantasm?!”

 

“You ain’t seen my Master so it’s all the same to me!” Rider shouts, unleashing a barrage of cannons into the main apartment building. He laughs, “Saber, you’d best end this war quickly because for my Master’s sake I’m takin’ down the big threat!”

 

“Even if you may be an enemy!” Simone shouts, “To think you would so readily throw your chance at the Grail away!”

 

Rider unleashes a hearty laugh, “‘Tis better to be in command of your own destiny! Yes, it’s been days and I’ve not had any chance of doing what I pleased!” The sound of the cannons nearly drowns out his own words, but his voice is so full of energy it can even overpower their deafening cracks, “This is all I wished for! But oh, it wasn’t until now that my thoughts were unclouded! A glorious, merry life! It’s worth losing time, I say!”

 

_ (He’s mad. There’s no second way about it, he’s definitely mad.) _ Assassin thinks as he avoids the wild shots firing indiscriminately into the buildings. Walls crashing around him, he rapidly evacuates and takes to hiding elsewhere. After all, at this rate there won’t be anywhere else for Caster to hide so he’ll just have to keep an eye out.

 

After what seems like hours of continuous barrages of cannons, the smoke begins to settle and Rider laughs, grasping triumphantly onto his ship’s mast.

 

“Out of curiosity,” Saber speaks up, “What did you hope to accomplish in that display? I mean, in the grand scheme of the War?”

 

“War, War, is that all you were thinking of?” Rider twirls around the mast and unsheathes his sword. His body is already dissipating back into mana but he strikes at the shaken and weakened workers, knocking them out with a cheery step, “From the very beginning, I just wanted some fun! And I realized something today: I ain’t gettin’ it with my Master. So, that’s the thing,” he steps up to Saber and glares at him in the eye, “I put my own interests ahead of hers.”

 

“How shameless.” Saber scowls, “You would abandon your Master without a second word?”

 

“I’m a scoundrel, after all! I was wondering what exactly would’ve inspired someone to mutiny, and that’s the thing. Up shit creek without a paddle, no future prospects, it’s stifling. I didn’t take up the skull and crossbones so I could sit on my ass telling stories, oh no!”

 

The discussion is cut off with a shot in the air of a rifle. From the wreckage of one of the buildings, Caster stands widely. She’s fuming, practically foaming at the mouth. Her eyes speak not so much anger but far more powerfully fear.

 

“You have no idea what you’ve done!” Caster shouts, “Fix the building this very instant!” She raises her rifle and lets loose the remaining fourteen rounds directly at Rider, all of which bounce off of his clothes.

 

“Easy come, easy go!” Rider claps his hands together, “I can’t turn back time, that’s  _ your  _ problem!”

 

“No. No. Nononononononono.” Caster falls to her knees and buries her face in her hands. She’s panicking, speaking too rapidly for her words to be comprehensible. “Youdon’tunderstandtheyaren’theretheyareherethevictimthevengeance,” she shrieks wildly, “ **IT’S** **_YOUR_ ** **PROBLEM AS WELL!** ”

 

Responding to her words, spirits begin to rise from the ground. Groaning in pain and misery, begging for death, they shoot icy glares at Caster. She screams and begins to flail across the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the ethereal creatures.

 

“What is this?” Saber asks.

 

“It appears to be a trump card of sorts,” Simone responds, “A Noble Phantasm beyond Caster’s control, I would believe.”

 

“Hope you don’t mind!” Rider tosses some money Saber’s way, then into the air, “Assassin, take your share! I need to give you some to stick around a little longer!” He clutches his sword and twirls his pistol, “If it’s Caster’s weapon, then the solution’s clear!” he points his pistol at Caster and takes a shot.

 

Before the bullet lands, a wall is erected between the two. Pieces of the building, and even chunks of Rider’s out of commission boat begin to stack up, one after another, moving of their own volition. They surround Caster, wall after wall, building a tower that rises vertically. Barely even wide enough to fit her, it shoots into the air and somehow refuses to topple over.

 

With no Caster to target with their ire, the spirits turn their attention to the other remaining residents. They slowly drift towards them, groaning in pain. “You killed us,” “It’s your fault,” “Your fortune was built on our blood,” all statements mix together into a dreadful hum. Rider takes a shot at one of the spirits, the bullet landing to confirm that the Servants are capable of dealing with them. Once one is shot, they go berserk and start to swerve wildly, jetting back and forth while screaming in terror, like they wish only to preserve their own lives. In the process, though, the speed and fury in the apparition’s movements pummel anything in their path. Even Saber has difficulty blocking while Simone crouches low to the ground, covering her head.

 

“No good.” Saber crouches. He sheathes his sword so that he can brace his shield with both arms, “It appears as if you angered her too much, Rider. We entered this expecting an Assassination, not a siege!”

 

“Talkin’ about plans can sometimes jinx ‘em.” Rider says as he dodges a spirit and pushes his body up against Caster’s tower, “See, once I saw the funky architecture I got myself an idea.” He chuckles, “By my pirates’ honor, I’ll bring Caster right to ya! Just get your sword at the ready since I’m running low on mana here, I can probably only pull it off just this once!”

 

“What are you getting at?!” Saber shouts. He draws his sword anyway.

 

Rider’s body is already disintegrating, and in his last moments he ponders a mile a minute. His life, his summoning as a Servant. He would have liked to have a proper Master, but luck wasn’t on his side. As for the Grail, even if he were to fight for it, all he really would want is a life of freedom. Hiding away and struggling like this, he can’t say he enjoyed his War. It’s better to die young doing what you love than live a long and miserable life, as he always said.

 

“Then let’s go for round two! Caster, you bitch, you took my boat! I’m takin’ it back, with interest!” Rider shouts, “ **Royal Fortune!** ”

 

At the invocation of his Noble Phantasm’s True Name, the shattered planks and gallows reform in the boat, at Rider’s feet once again. Being used as part of a roughshod tower that Caster built in a panic, the foundation crumbles. The tower begins to sway and bend. Being constructed from everything Caster had, the gaps will not be filled. Her last bastion of defense begins to crumple under its weight.

 

Had she been willing to bring herself closer to the ground, Caster would easily have remained in her fortress high above the land by filling in the gaps left by the Royal Fortune, but her panicked attempt to escape from her prison prevents her from realizing this simple truth. As a result, she has lost her footing and enters into the process of falling all the way. Losing the entire height for a couple stories, it truly is a case of penny wise yet pound foolish.

 

“That’s the last I have to give you.” Rider salutes to Saber. Merely the act of reforming the boat used the last of his resources, and he was surprised he could manage even that much, “Then it’s all up to you.”

 

With that, Rider fades away into light, taking his boat along with him.


	10. Flag of Victory

_ Regrets. Guilt, desperation, horror. Imagine, just imagine. If every breath you took stole life from an innocent. Imagine living, isolated and alone, nothing but your own thoughts festering within you. Madness. Fear. Sinfulness. They emulsified within me until the only thought was escape from the inescapable prison of the soul. _

 

_ Such was my existence. _

 

_ Not having lifted a finger myself, I was the last heir of the family. Our advancements caused the devastation of an entire nation. No, perhaps they extended beyond that. To halt the death caused by them, no, that would be impossible. The only thing I could hope to do is satiate those who have passed away. _

 

_ My only wish is to have peace. But I cannot die. The tendrils of evil that my family wrought shall never be freed from this world. So long as humanity exists, I must serve the dearly departed. As such, there is only one path so that my soul may be tranquil. _

 

_ To think the moments of clarity and reflection you have in the strangest situations. _

 

\----------

 

Caster falls within the top of the building. She laughs madly, tears and urine expelled from her fear splattering across the ground and tearing at her hair until blood runs from her scalp.

 

“Saber!” Simone shouts. She knows that such a fall would never be fatal to even a weak Servant. He nods, “Your Noble Phantasm. I think we’ll need it.”

 

“At your command.” Saber says. He pauses for a moment. Assassin likely is still observing the battle. It’s no use. Saber clenches his sword resolutely. “My country, my people’s hopes are on my shoulders. By my knight’s honor, by my duty, I cannot give any quarter in this battle!” he chants.

 

“Blaze on! Oriflamme!”

 

At his words, a coat of fire engulfs his body from the toes, extending over his shoulders into a scarlet red cape billowing on its own volition. His sword bursts with a blinding aura. He discards his shield to his side so that he might handle his blade with both hands.

 

“Caster! You shall not live to see the sunrise!”

 

The spirits reel back in fear from the knight’s glorious presence. They don’t think to even attempt at approaching him. Beams of light extending from Saber’s blade tear holes in the ground like what would be left by industrial-strength machinery and tear apart ghosts. He struggles to keep the weapon sturdy.

 

Three seconds until Caster’s quarters are in range.

 

Simone is too taken aback by the splendor of her knight to even think of taking cover. She feels her cheeks flush at seeing him in such a state. His resolution, his virtue, his loyalty, and his strength. Truly, she thinks, he is the most perfect knight.

 

Two seconds until Caster’s quarters are in range.

 

Saber has a clear head. If he were to falter in his thoughts for even a moment, he would lose his control of the sword. Though it may only be a C+ Rank Noble Phantasm, when focused in such a manner its power rivals even A Rank. To attain such a leap of power requires absolute concentration. It requires compressing the magical energy to a fraction, barely a hundredth, of the original scope.

 

One second until Caster’s quarters are in range.

 

Saber finishes. The light explodes outward in one final scream before being focused together. His sword exudes a single paper-thin light from its cutting edge. Saber holds his sword to his face.

 

“The LORD bless you and keep you.”

 

Saber readies the sword and with one slash the beam of light extends outwards like a laser. He slices through once vertically.

 

“The LORD make his face to shine down upon you!”

 

A horizontal slash.

 

“And be gracious to you!”

 

His arms move swiftly, attacking continuously. Slicing from every angle to ensure that Caster will not survive the attack. He ends his assault, the light on his sword is extinguished, and with it, his cloak flies off of his shoulders, soaring through the air before dissipating back to mana.

 

“And give you peace.”

 

The building, sliced into numerous pieces, falls to the ground and with it, Caster. She still manages to hold onto her life, clawing at the wreckage of her territory. Caster shivers, mumbling incomprehensible words to herself. She grasps at two pieces of the wood and stands one against the other before her head drops and she begins to fade back into mana. With her death, the spirits of the land also begin to disappear.

 

While he was on guard as she faded away, once she had been confirmed dead, Saber cluches his sword, “Assassin, you had best show yourself.” he says. As if on command, Assassin appears.

 

“Don’t you worry, I’m not going to fight you. Some Noble Phantasm, though. Didn’t quite catch the name. Had a ghost shrieking in my ear at the worst possible time.” Assassin says as he calmly saunters to the edge of the premises, “That Noble Phantasm has me convinced that I can’t beat you! I’d say you’re a shoe-in for the rest of this War.” His gaze turns icy, “That is, if you play your cards right.”

 

Saber readjusts his stance. If that is Assasin’s intent he should end it righ tnow.

 

“Hold on, Saber.” Simone says, “We have been wounded. There are still two more Servants beyond Assassin. One of them is Archer, who we have confirmed has a range at which he is able to strike on a whim. Assassin only wishes to escape with his life. If we battle him, he would no doubt only aim to alter our state to one where where one of them could finish the job more easily.”

 

“Smart girl.” Assassin says. “She’s not wrong. I’ve got other plans for tonight, so don’t you worry.” He tosses a small ball on the ground that begins to let out a slow billow of smoke, “You have my word.”

 

The two see that with Caster’s bounded field dispelled they can get the visual confirmation of Assassin meeting up with Erin. He’s very animated, clearly showing off what happened with wide, booming gestures. His arms expand and he throws out wild punches to emulate the ship, he stands tall and leaps into the sky for Caster’s tower, and then copies Saber’s Noble Phantasm beat for beat. Simone can’t help but crack a grin at seeing him act in such a manner even though he’s supposed to be about subtlety.

 

Once they leave, Saber faces where Caster’s body was before. He kneels before his sword and utters a brief prayer for her soul.

 

“Saber?”

 

“Show your enemies no mercy or compassion.” he explains solemnly, “This I know. And yet, to kill is a sin.” Saber stands and places his arm on Simone’s shoulder, “You must understand that even though I hold no quarter, although killing is my duty, and although I was merely returning Caster’s spirit to rest, it is no easy task to abandon your humanity and take a life. It takes many squires an entire lifetime and even then they cannot wash the blood from their hands.”

 

“Then why do it?” she asks.

 

“Because that is a burden that must be borne. If I cannot, then another must.” he says, “To willingly stain our own hands so that others may remain clean is truly the paramount of venerable actions.” He releases Simone’s shoulder and switches back into his street clothes, “And furthermore, if it is to protect your own body, there is no sin too weighty to bear.”

 

\----------

 

_ (“My Master, it appears as though Caster has been defeated.”) _ Archer says.

  
_ (“How do you figure?”)  _ Hugo asks.

 

_ (“Her territory has faded away. Even from this distance, I can get a clear view. The area in question is highly damaged.”) _

 

_ (“Between that and Berserker’s show, I wonder if the other Masters are even trying to keep a low profile?”) _ Hugo says with a chuckle,  _ (“Maybe we’ll win without needing to lift a finger, by everyone else getting disqualified.”) _

 

_ (“Doubtful.”)  _ Archer replies, unable to recognize the joking tone,  _ (“In any case, I have gone three cycles around our sniping locales. A different route each time. I believe I am not unjustified in saying their construction has been adequately tested.”) _

 

_ (“That’s perfectly fine.”) _ Hugo says,  _ (“You might have attracted some unwanted attention, so come on back. Make yourself as scarce as possible. We’ve still got as many as five other Servants running around, one of them Assassin.”) _

 

_ (“Understood.”) _ Archer quickly jumps to a different location, returns to spirit form and begins to make his way back to Hugo’s residence.

 

_ (“Oh, before you do, though,”) _ Hugo says,  _ (“You should be near a bakery, so perhaps now might be a good time, to, uh.”) _

 

_ (“Your request?”) _ __   
  


_ (“Florence has a famous dessert called cantuccini.”) _ __   
  


_ (“Understood.”) _

 

\----------

 

Pacing back and forth through Juniper’s apartment, as soon as the door opens Arad swings his death glare towards the frame. He sees her raise her hands up to show she’s not threatening him. Lancer stands behind Juniper carrying a paper bag from a fast food place.

 

“Just coming back for dinner. You didn’t raid my fridge, did you?” she asks. Juniper takes a burger out of the bag and offers it to Arad. He turns his nose up at the offer.

 

“As if.” he replies, his tone sour, yet longing. He strikes her the same way a cornered animal would.

 

“If I wanted to kill you, Lancer would’ve taken care of that.” Juniper takes a bite from the burger and offers it to Arad.

 

He takes it and quickly inhales the rest. “And what exactly are you keeping me around for, then?”

 

“Keeping an illustrious family that has a bunch of caged dragons indebted to me? Yeah, what could I possibly gain from that?” she sips from a cup of cola and offers it to Arad. “I say nuts to the Grail. Omnipotent wish granting device? No, don’t need that. Don’t trust it.”

 

“The princess would probably give you more.”

 

“Yeah, but I really don’t like her type. Too hard to read.” Juniper says, “Political minded families like that should focus their efforts into something more useful than lying their way into prestige. Don’t you agree?” He grunts in recognition. “So I figured that it’d be a good idea, since you’re out of the War at the moment, maybe to help each other out?”

 

No response, but Arad’s stopped his jittery movements. He doesn’t look at her, but he’s listening.

 

“Saber recovered really quickly from that last fight. Matter of fact it looks like he killed both Rider  _ and  _ Caster tonight alone.”

 

“So there’s no shame in Berserker dying to him.” Lancer says. Though Arad frowns on hearing it, Lancer shrugs and resumes his point. “Now, I’m not sure he’s the strongest of the Servants in this War, but no doubt he’s got the best Master.”

 

“Someone worth eliminating.” Juniper explains, “But I don’t think we’ll be able to do it alone. I was thinking that there were two basic ideas. Either we go for a straight-up duel, Servants backed by Masters, but I can’t keep up with that blondie in support.”

 

“The alternative is to separate the two of us,” Lancer says. The two of them are only looking at each other, not really discussing directly at Arad, “But even if she’s not giving Saber active support, the young lady is still boosting his parameters. I believe we would be at a disadvantage if I wasn’t getting Master support.”

 

“The smoothest plan would be to have a Servant and Master hold Saber in place while a third party killed his Master. They’d need to be stronger than an average Magus, at least in physical prowess. But, well, a Servant would be way too obvious with their massive mana signatures. Saber would no doubt take a few hits to rush to his Master’s aide.”

 

“And Assassin seems to be on good terms with Saber’s Master. It’s not likely he’d target her.”

 

“So then, the obvious choice is…” Juniper and Lancer turn to Arad, who has clenched his fist and crushed the paper cup in his hand. His teeth grinding, legs shaking, he smiles. The message was delivered loud and clear.

 

\----------

 

To her surprise, Simone awakened to a fairly large meal sitting at the table. Saber, looking somewhat exhausted with his sleeves rolled up and his collar disheveled, sits at one end as if awaiting her.

“Did you not sleep?” she asks.

“No, of course not.” he answers. After a moment to think, he clarifies, “Of course I did sleep, and not not sleep. It assists with recovering from the wounds.” Saber stands and rushes to Simone’s side of the table to pull a chair out for her, “Though being in the beneficial habit of awakening early, I had time to prepare this in advance.”

 

In a word, Saber’s cooking was gray. A portion, just large enough to fill one’s belly, of a drab looking gruel and a slab of dried meat.

 

“I took the liberty of rushing to a butcher’s for the meat.” he explains, “Convenient and healthy foods that keep well. Yes, that is what to seek.”

Simone takes a spoonful into her mouth and her face sinks low. She blinks twice before turning her attention to Saber, then averting her gaze.

“No use, I suppose.” Saber sighs, “You have fallen into the allure of delicious meals. Yes, I had feared of that.” He pushes a bottle of honey closer to Simone’s reach which she pours onto the gruel before he puts a hand on her wrist to indicate she should stop. “You should train yourself to eat to live, not to live to eat. Good food is nice to have but food is food, and all should be appreciated equally.” He stops himself before he continues to ramble.

“I assume I am to simply take water, then?” Simone asks. She hopes for something that could cleanse her palate from the mushy, muddy breakfast that she can barely put down even with the sweet honey mixed into it.

“I made tea, actually. In terms of health benefits - oh, I am certain you should be able to tell.” Saber pours her a cup. Rather than the shining golden brown luster of what she’s used to, Saber’s tea is darker and murky. Simone can guess the reasoning. Yes, if it’s the tea leaves that bring the health benefits, why bother with making a full pot if you can distill the pot into a single cup by repeated straining?

Though easily able to tell that it will be hellish on her tongue, Simone can predict Saber’s words. The waste of tea would be a shame. She has already put too much sugar on her breakfast. Therefore, Simone braces herself for a flavor explosion and alternates between the dull grainy gruel and the bitter burn of the tea.

 

\----------

 

The Church made a fast move to cover up the wreckage at what used to be Caster’s territory. They set off a large explosive in the middle of the night, taking out her tower and sending wreckage flying across the neighborhood. It allowed the coverup of it being an act of terrorism to occur much more smoothly. Not only do they not need to worry, as the authorities are within their control, it also should make people more paranoid for a short while.

 

“At least long enough to cover the rest of the War, hm?” Martin asks de Clerk. “Clever move, clever move.”

 

“Let’s just end this quickly.” he replies. Dissatisfied, he slaps a dossier on a desk in front of Martin. He eyes it suspiciously and flips it open. He looks closely at the first page, flips to the second and skims, skims the third, and flips through the rest barely paying attention. Martin slides the folder across the table. It was nothing but a short list of the people who lost their lives due to Caster’s intervention with short paragraphs about what the Church should do to compensate.

 

“You don’t need to worry, we’ve got the Three Knights as the only ones remaining. Well, them and Assassin.” Martin says, “Three fighter classes, they should move things quickly. Ah, but there’s also the possibility that they’ll be wary of Assassin.” He turns in his chair, “It’s all the same to me, I’m just a passive observer. You, on the other hand?”

 

“Would not be so foolish as to fight a Servant.”

 

“Yes, of course.” Martin sours at that. A part of de Clerk is relieved to see that something exists that gets on Martin’s nerves. Even if he desperately wishes he could take out Assassin so that the other three would pick each other apart sooner rather than later.

 

\----------

 

“Hmmm,” Assassin hangs from the balcony of Erin’s apartment. She stares at him and sighs.

 

“I think you’re drawing some unwanted attention.” Erin says, “Aren’t you supposed to be stealthy?”

 

“Not when I’m getting prepped for combat.” Assassin retorts. He looks at the ground and sees a small group of people staring at him, “I guess this counts?”

 

“You’re letting out a pretty hardcore killing intent. I mean, if I were to guess that’s the reason.” Assassin crunches his stomach and gets back up over the ledge. “Anything on your mind?”

 

“Of course.” Assassin’s tone turns grim, “We are on the verge of a crucial tactical decision.”

 

“Are we?”   
  


“Absolutely. There are two paths from here. First: we tell Lancer’s Master the location of Archer’s Master.” Assassin explains, “That goes through with everything as planned. Most likely we knock out Archer or Saber.”

 

“Second?”   
  


“Deliberately lie. It guarantees us a victory against Lancer due to the Command that she gave.”

 

“It’s a guaranteed kill or a mostly guaranteed one?”   
  


“Important to pick one’s battles.”

 

“But Lancer isn’t that big a deal, I’d say. You should be able to handle him if you go all-out.”

 

“I fear that he has something beyond what we’ve seen.” Assassin says, “In spite of him not being a fool, he is very blatant with that dagger of his. I believe it would be foolish to assume that is his trump card.”

 

“I think we only have one shot at pitting Saber and Archer against one another.” Erin says, “And besides, neither of their Masters seem the type who would kill each other. They’d probably leave well enough alone when one of them loses. So that’s a good thing.”

 

“Rather soft. Are you not a Magus?”   
  


“Hey, children are over the line.” Erin says, “I don’t care how cold hearted I’m supposed to be, that’s just too much.”

 

\----------

 

The two Masters met at the unfortunate gelato shop at midday. Juniper sat with a bowl as Erin entered. On entering, Erin and saw some flies buzzing outside that killed any appetite she might have had. She sits across from Juniper.

 

“Lancer, she’s alone.” Juniper says. On command Assassin quickly shows his face to let her know he’s present. She chuckles, “Of course you aren’t. Just some dark humor.”

“Not very funny.” Erin responds, “We’ve got the place.” She discretely slides an envelope across the table with an address and a photograph.

“You aren’t BSing me, are you?” Juniper asks, “Just to be certain.”

“I’ll be up front: We thought of it.” Erin says, “But tactically speaking this is far more ideal.”

“Of course it is.” Juniper grabs the envelope and stands. “Oh, before I leave with this.” She leans over, “Tell me what you intend on doing tonight. Depending on your answer I may alter my actions.”

“Like it matters. You wouldn’t trust what I would tell you.”

“Smart girl.” Juniper stands and crushes the cup in her hands, “No, that’s not it. Smart  _ aleck _ . Suit yourself. It doesn’t make a difference to me.”

 

While leaving, driving away on the motorcycle, Lancer turns his head slightly to his Master.

“What would you have done if she answered your question?” he asks.

“Probably nothing. Our job is to make sure that Saber or Archer die tonight. If Assassin wants to pull the wool over our eyes he’ll try to prevent that from happening. So our hands are tied. We have to go to Archer’s residence anyway. By we I mean you, naturally.”

“Then why did you ask?”   
“Her not being able to answer means that she didn’t realize that fact herself.”

“Are you making this up as you go along?”

“I’d suppose I am.”

 

\----------

 

By the middle of the day, Simone feels a rumbling in her stomach. She’s rather unaccustomed to such humble meals as she ate in the morning and even if it was enough sustenance, psychologically speaking she is still famished. Saber catches on and nods.

“Very well, shall we stop for some food?” he asks.

 

The two sit down in a lavish restaurant. It would be in a prominent place in any travel guide yet would not be so presumptuous as to advertise that fact itself. The prices, naturally, are in accordance. Saber can barely read the menu and leaves the order to Simone.

“Although I need not eat, of course,” he says, “There is some value to be had in it.”

A voice speaks up from the side of the table. “Besides, it would draw unwanted attention if you were to be sitting there with your arms crossed with a pretty little girl, wouldn’t it?”

Saber practically leaps from his seat but manages to keep his composure. Lancer leans against the table casually, with him not even noticing his approach.

“Take it easy. I’m not here to fight you guys.” Assassin says. He stands up and tosses an envelope to them, “I heard you were intending on something with Berserker’s Master. Let’s see, I think the most, ah, diplomatic term would be to say he should have his potential as a Master revoked? Yeah, something like that.” Lancer turns and waves his hand, “Well, that’s not important to me. My Master just thought it’d be nice to get rid of him, too, and so we tracked down his whereabouts.”

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Simone tears open the envelope and looks inside. She keeps an eye on Lancer and Saber tosses his head back. Their enemy takes the hint and vacates the area. Once they’re certain he isn’t able to listen in on them, the two proceed to discuss.

“It is rather passive to act how Lancer seems to expect we will. And there may be some ulterior motive.” Saber warns.

“That is fine.” Simone says, “If I can prevent this man from harming another innocent, or rather, if I fail to prevent it, how should I live with myself? It is my duty of the powerful to use their power to help those who cannot help themselves.”

“I would not have respect for you if you said otherwise, My Lady.” Saber smiles and takes the envelope and its contents from Simone, as to remove the thoughts of them from the meal, “We should spend some time to discuss so as to take precautions. But there is a time and a place for everything, and in a meal our attention should be given to eating properly.”

“Before I forget, I would like to bring something up.” Simone says, “Lancer’s appearing before us reminded me of it.”

 

\----------

 

After finished testing their focal points, Archer and Hugo sit at the fountain where Rider performed. They can feel some residual mana and hear talk of the strange pirate man not being there today.

“If I were to guess, he’s been taken out.” Hugo says. He steadies his grip to make sure not to spill his food.   
“An accurate assessment.” Archer answers. Under his breath, he whispers, “Are you certain I should not return to spirit form?”

“Our victory is close at hand. You deserve a reward.” Hugo answers with a chuckle, “Enjoy, you’ve earned it.” Although it’s clear to Archer that Hugo is enjoying it much more. “I never thought I would make it this far.”

“The remaining four Masters will prove the most challenging.” Archer says with a sigh, “Saber is obviously the largest threat. If anybody will need today’s plan to be saved, it would be him. However, Assassins are always threatening. If we are not careful you will be killed without noticing it. As for Lancer,” he pauses.

Hugo stops eating. He knows what Archer’s getting at.

“I’m stupid, I know.” he says, “We won’t let her get killed. Lancer dying is fine. Call me sentimental, or quixotic or whatever you’d like. I can’t believe that she wasn’t genuine. I won’t believe she isn’t someone who deserves to live.”

“That is fine.” Archer assents, “I also have experience with loving one that only rewarded me with betrayal.”

“I guess we have the best compatibility a Master and Servant could ask for. Don’t we?”

 

\----------

 

How fortunate for Arad. What luck that things had been set up just in that way. Near the area he was told to wait, it stood next to a park. Examining further, a school is also there. Arad checks his pocket to ensure he has the vial that his conspirator was gracious enough to give him for the night. He squats in the park and keeps an eye and ear out for when Archer’s Master arrives back.

 

Everything is planned out. Arad knows where Lancer and Archer will be tonight.

 

Assassin knows how Saber and Lancer will act.

 

Simone knows Arad’s location.

 

Only Juniper knows everyone’s intents.


	11. To Become a Magus

Dying would be easy. Running would be easier. Killing, that would be the easiest. Waiting. Waiting is not so easy.

 

So thinks Arad. He lies in wait, accompanied by his raging thoughts and the crackling noise of his bones as he twists his wrists and presses against his knuckles. He runs his mind over the Archer he is promised this night. He was told that Archer is a loyal type. His Master doesn’t seem much special but his fighting technique is not to be underestimated. Arad grinds his teeth at the thought. If he’s loyal, even killing his Master probably won’t work. He’ll have to use one or more of Archer’s commands to force servitude on him.

 

The sun begins to disappear over the horizon. Lancer looks over the area. The earth is tattered even before the battle begins. Some landscaper hasn’t been doing a very good job. He turns to his Master and draws his dagger.

“I might switch this guy out tonight. If I pull out my Holy Spear, I could easily pick off the survivor.” he says, “And in that case, it’s just Assassin to be dealt with. Easy.”

“Do as you see fit.” Juniper says dismissively. She strikes Lancer as if her mind is wandering. Although it is the most critical night of the War, something is eating at her. Lancer breathes a sigh from his nose. He gets the impression Juniper is already thinking more deeply what to use the wish on.

 

The first one back is Hugo and Archer. Arad picks the scent of mana up and snaps into action. He leaps ahead, revealing his presence immediately. It’s something of a miscalculation. There was no intent for him to seize Archer. Arad takes a massive leap at Hugo. One arm is aimed to the neck, and the other at Hugo’s right hand.

 

Lancer gasps, “Geez, that idiot.” he turns to Juniper, “I take it you planned for this?”

  
“Not particularly,” Juniper says. She waves Lancer away, “But I’m not surprised. Go help him.” Lancer takes a moment to think about who exactly she’s requesting he assist.

 

Archer turns to the sneak attack, hitting his shoulder into Arad before he has the chance to tear at Hugo’s arm.

 

“How reckless.” Archer says, “If my eyesight can be trusted, you are, or were, the Master of Berserker, yes?” He smiles and strokes his beard, “Birds of a feather, as they say. He also lacked restraint, yes?”

 

“Don’t compare me to him.” Arad growls, “I’m not such a dumbass as to waste my one shot.” he stomps against the ground, “Should be about now.”

 

As he stomps, Archer readies his bow. He’s wary to take a shot, as Arad appears unperturbed. Skeletal warriors begin to rise from the dirt. “Ah, there we go!” Arad says. He claps his hands once and holds them out triumphantly.

 

“Dragon Tooth Warriors, I presume.” Hugo says, “If he has access to them, and his direct physicality, that must be his family’s specialty.” He backs near Archer. “I can’t defend myself and your bow will not be effective.”

 

“Make me a mace.” Archer says. Hugo drops to the ground and begins drawing a circle in the dirt.

 

The dragon tooth warriors move sluggishly. Any attempts they make to fight would be underwhelming for the effort it would take to plant them. What would be a nightmarish checkmate for a  modern Magus is only a mild challenge for Archer. They are not born from the teeth from a dragon of the Age of Gods, it’s only natural their strength would be hardly of note for a Servant. But still, there are many of them. Generation upon generation of resources, all piled into this single gamble.

 

Lancer claps, “Well, I didn’t expect to see that! One dozen, two dozen, three dozen, I’ve lost count! How many teeth does a single dragon have? How many dragons does his family have? Honestly it’s a surprise we didn’t see this sooner!” He leans on his lance. It’d be best not to intervene and distract the mindless undead.

 

Covering attacks from all directions quickly overwhelm Archer, especially as the numbers increase. Archer leaps out of the fray. He turns his bow to Arad and takes a shot. A single arrow that Arad can by a feat of luck manage to avoid.

 

“Killing me won’t change it.” Arad says with a scoff. He tilts his head at the mass of dragon tooth warriors in a savage frey attacking anything they see move, at the moment only each other, “He’s still in there.” Archer’s loyalty to his Master takes precedence. He puts his bow away and steels himself. Archer charges headlong into the battle. Crushing bone with his fists and tossing entire bodies into the air. He’s desperate to find his Master.

 

Hugo also knew it’s better to run than to fight. There’s no chance to make a mace for Archer. He makes himself scarce. Of course, he read the legend about how wild dragon tooth warriors are. By hiding, keeping his body low, he can manage to avoid direct attacks. Even still, the simple movement of them around him is enough to kill a man. Their strength is comparatively inferior but they still have strikes that could crush steel.

 

Hugo cannot discern where he “needs” to go. The legs clattering all around him only make it so he can see where he “can’t” go. He struggles blindly through the mass of carnage surrounding him. He doesn’t know where he’s even moving but only knows that anything is better than remaining still. After a brief moment that seems like an eternity, Hugo sees light. As soon as he takes in fresh air, a bony leg kicks him and sends him flying out of the mass.

 

That is the moment Arad had waited for. Archer is engulfed in the riot of bone. He can’t tell what’s going on. Arad can. He sprints and catches Hugo. His enhanced blood gives him the speed to burst back through to the school.

 

Arad tosses Hugo against the edge of a gymnasium. He breathes heavily, covered in sweat but greatly proud of himself. “Feels like your ribs got shattered there.” he chuckles, “Best be careful or they might stab into something important.” Arad crouches and looks Hugo in the eye, “I think you can tell what I want.”

 

“Archer won’t listen to you.” Hugo says.

 

“That’s why I’m going to offer you a deal.” Arad says. “You give me one Command Spell: I’ll spare your life. You give me two: I won’t make your wounds any worse.” he speaks almost non-threateningly, “You give me three, hey, I’ll even take you to a hospital.”

 

Hugo doesn’t say anything. He barely even moves. His eyes glaze over slightly. Arad lifts him up and lightly slaps his cheeks, “C’mon, surely you can’t have passed out.” Hugo’s eyes focus on his aggressor, “There we go.”

 

“By my Command Spell, I order you, Archer,” Hugo says. Arad’s gaze turns violent. He slams his forehead into Hugo’s chin. Hugo feels a snap that he can only guess is his jaw being dislocated. In that moment, he grabs Hugo by the head and tosses it back against the wall. He feels some bones shatter and Hugo’s body drops limply.

 

He spits, disgusted at the guy’s tenacity. Arad feels for a pulse. It’s definitely still there. Although he’s bruised from head to toe with broken ribs and a skull fracture, Hugo is still alive. He grinds his teeth. It’s more annoying than it seemed, to take another Master’s Servant.

 

Arad searches around the immediate area. Taking off the arm will be most effective. He’s in a gymnasium. Only thing he can think of that could be used as a tool is to open up the bleachers and crush the bones, tear the muscle and skin by shutting them over the arm. That’d leave too much. No, something more subtle is called for. Besides, there’s only a little blood right now. It’s something that he can manage to not bother cleaning up. Taking off a limb, though, that would be too much.

 

So for that reason, Arad grabs Hugo and slings him over his shoulder. He’s about to find a better location, one with more privacy and something sharp to work with, ideally also a way to stanch the blood.

 

“Hold on.”

 

Simone has arrived.

 

Lancer took an effort and secretly directed towards the school by using his dagger. She surrounded the premises with a bounded field to track down Arad’s magical energy. Finding him was quite simple.

 

“Aaah, get lost.” Arad tosses Hugo to the ground in front of him, “Fine. You take his arm. Or take him to the hospital. I don’t care which.”

 

“No.” Simone doesn’t remove her eyes from Arad. She was taught this before. They said that having a heart, caring more about innocents than yourself, is not the magus way. She believed that couldn’t be true. There would be no way that her own desire would overpower her noblesse oblige. Now, she understood what it meant. Even though she had been taught to always take full care of her body, that physical rage bears no benefits, her teeth are grinding. Her nostrils flaring, her unwavering gaze, her heart racing.

 

Arad normally wouldn’t be the least bit frightened, but Saber is right there. He feels the initial surge of power from the dragon’s blood wearing off. As if his confidence were not already shot.

 

_ (There’s my cue) _ , thinks Lancer. He slams in through the door on his motorcycle and takes them by surprise. Just barely, his lance strikes Saber’s shoulder.

 

“Ah! Mr. Braddock!” Lancer shouts, “To think that both Berserker and Saber’s Masters would put aside their differences to try and get you killed! Oh, how cruel the Holy Grail War is!” he turns to Saber, “How dishonorable.”

 

“Do not play ignorant, Lancer.” Saber prepares his weapons. The surprise attack will put him at a disadvantage, but he is ready to fight. “You know full well what is going on here, do you not? You shall become a stain on my blade!”

 

Arad takes advantage of the confusion and rushes out of the gymnasium. Simone strengthens her legs and charges after him.

 

“Lady Simone!” Saber turns to rush after her. His hastiness nearly gets Lancer another free shot, but he manages to avoid.

 

“What was that, Saber? Stain on your blade?” He revs the engine, “Make no mistake, I fully intend on protecting Archer’s Master.” He steps off from the motorcycle.

 

_ (“Lady Simone!”) _ Saber calls telepathically.

 

_ (“We’re sorry, the number you’ve attempted to reach is experiencing technical difficulties.”)  _ Juniper pipes in. It’s a bounded field within a bounded field.  _ (“Please try again in a little while.”) _

 

No choice. He’ll have to defeat Lancer to save his Master. Saber charges. With no mount, Lancer is at a clear disadvantage. Lancer responds by slamming the blunt of his lance onto the ground. It shatters both the gymnasium floor and the wooden lance, sending numerous splinters shooting towards Saber. Lancer follows up and calls a second lance, which he breaks against Saber’s shield. The force knocks Saber back and gives Lancer time to pick up Hugo.

 

As if on cue, Archer runs into the room, “Master!”

 

“Archer!” Lancer calls another spear, “Please, you must battle with Saber!” he pleads, “He’s trying to kill your Master!”

 

“Do not believe his lies!” Saber shouts, “We had shown up to protect him from Berserker’s Master.”

 

Archer draws his bow. He’s shooting an evil glance at Lancer.

 

“Oh, boy.” Lancer chuckles. “I expected this. Okay, then. Stick won’t work, let’s try the carrot.” he tosses Hugo’s body on the motorcycle, “You know, I’m the best man to take him to get some medical attention.” he explains, “Saber, though. He’s a thorn in my side, and thus a thorn in your Master’s side. And with these bones loosely rattling around Braddock’s gut, he could do without thorns in there.”

 

“I only desire to attend to my Master. If you want to evacuate the premises then feel free to do so.” Saber takes a knee. It’s humiliating, but he’s submitting to Lancer, “Please. Just leave us be.”

 

“Back to the stick!” Lancer stabs his lance into the ground, “Archer, you don’t kill Saber tonight and I run a wheel on his face!”

 

Without any hesitation, Archer takes a shot. The arrow strikes Saber’s heel.

 

“My apologies, Saber.” Archer bites his lip, “My Master’s well-being must be my top priority.”

 

“I understand.” Saber takes up his arms, “I knew that even with seven Servants in this War, you and I would fight once. Pity it would be under such terms.” He shifts his grip on the blade. “Lancer. Know this. Regardless of who makes it out of this alive, you will not be getting any more sympathy from either of us.”

 

“Like I care.” Lancer jumps back on the motorcycle. “Good luck, Archer!” Lancer drives to one end of the gymnasium and holds his dagger to Hugo’s throat, so Archer doesn’t try anything. He was expecting it to go much worse than that. But by good fortune, he played all his cards right.

 

“Saber,” Archer begins. His expression is anguished despite his firm grasp on his weapon.

 

“I understand.” Saber replies, “But I also have to protect my Master.” He looks past, to Lancer. His expression is asking if Lancer will be going or not.

 

“I don’t want you guys weaseling out of this. You want him to get help, one of you needs to die. If you don’t rush it, that’s on  _ you _ .” Lancer says. “Go on. Get started.”

 

Although he could probably save his Master if he were to kill himself, Archer weighs the risks. No. That would be foolish. His Master is this wounded, and he still holds Command Seals. If Archer dies, so too will Hugo. By that metric, there is only one method through which to rescue his Master.

 

Archer lets loose. A barrage of arrows rains onto Saber, tearing the floor up. Saber raises his shield to deflect them. He had taken one of Archer’s missiles before, but this time it’s even worse. Though his weapon has no special traits and his physical strength is not so great, the arrows are almost intuitively fired towards their ideal position. Dodging them would require a mastery of warfare far greater than Saber’s, and even blocking them, they are precisely launched through his guard. Their lightness is key for this. They may not be powerful, but the arrows can be fired continuously with no leniency granted for his opposition. The only way to defend against all of them would be to constantly be thinking a step ahead of Archer.

 

Thus, the best plan is to forego that option. Saber steels himself and pushes forward, forcing through the arrows. Saber slashes once, aiming for Archer’s stomach. In response, Archer charges forward and rams his hip into the hilt of the sword at full force. He continues his motion and aims an arrow for Saber’s throat, but Saber quickly leans back to dodge it.

 

They are in melee distance, but Archer knows removing his arms from his bow is foolish. Saber holds a much greater advantage against him, who lacks both weapon and armor. So then, he must put pressure on Saber by having his powerful arrows always at the ready.

 

Saber strikes. He steps forward as Archer steps back. If he can get Archer against the wall, it will be his victory. Archer, on the other hand, has superior footwork even to Saber. He dodges Saber’s strikes by hairs, just barely able to use his reflexes to avoid them, focusing his thoughts on keeping from being pushed into a corner.

 

His opponent manages to prevent that. Footwork is one thing, but routing an enemy is a matter of tactics. Archer is more gifted in one-on-one battles while Saber is more familiar with largescale military operations. That is how he, despite being the inferior martial artist, could force Archer to move as he desired.

 

Saber quickly pushes his shield forward, knocking Archer against the wall. He graps his sword halfway up the blade and pushes forward. His attack is precise, aimed at Archer’s stomach.

 

The strike to the stomach was a mistake. Archer uses the momentum and tosses his body higher up. He pushes against the wall and tumbles over Saber’s head. Quickly rolling over the ground, he gets into a crouching position and lets fly an arrow.

 

A direct hit. The shot strikes Saber squarely in the back with its bone-shattering force. Were he unarmored, it would certainly have been a fatal shot, striking directly in the heart. Even with his armor, only pure luck prevented it from reaching to a vital area. Saber turns around and returns to the defensive as he faces a rainstorm of projectiles.

 

“That’s it, Archer.” Lancer claps his hands, “You’ve got this in the bag.” Lancer affixes Hugo’s body in a safe position, “So then I’ll just give this to you on the honor system. You’d better appreciate it!”

 

With a quick salute, Lancer rides off.

 

_ (“Master, I need some directions.”) _ he says  _ (“To the nearest hospital. Archer’s Master has an emergency case.”) _

 

_ (“I don’t care, just finish him off.”)  _ Juniper responds.

 

_ (“Master, Master. I may be vindictive, slimy and manipulative but a liar I am not. I am a knight, after all, there are some rules I must follow. One of them is that my word is my bond.”) _ Lancer replies.  _ (“Besides, I don’t doubt he’ll die by the end of tonight anyway. Seeing how Archer’s about to finish off Saber, well, why not indulge my sense of honor?”) _

 

_ (“Very well. Just let me pull up my phone and get a map for you.”) _

 

Something about the ease at which Juniper turned from the practical option calls out to Lancer. It’s small, but there seems to be some sense of sentimentality for Hugo in her. Of course that’s the case. If a man could earnestly pursue a woman and she were left with not the least bit of affection for him, Lancer thinks, then he would have no reason for existence to begin with. He feels tears welling up in his eyes, unable to help but wear a smile.

 

While he wouldn’t think of telling Juniper this, in a way she has unintentionally made his wish come true.

 

\----------

 

In a chase of mages, one’s physicality is irrelevant. The strengthening they can apply to their bodies is more important. Arad is still boosted by his dragon’s blood, but Simone’s natural magic is definitively stronger, such that chasing him is simple.

 

However, he is still older and the one running. He determines the pathway and has ducked in through alleyways, slinking in and out of her vision such that while he is not able to escape her, he can outpace her. He’s inhaling deeply with his nose, scanning the area without needing to take his eyes off of his own path. The scent of oil, metal and smoke draws him in. He rushes to it on reaction, finding a warehouse to take refuge. He slips inside, knocks out a guard and tears a handrail before hiding.

 

Simone quickly follows. She’s short on breath and hesitant to enter, but she knows she has him cornered. Once she regathers herself, she reaches into her pocket and unearths a sheet of paper. She slaps it on the warehouse’s walls as she enters.

 

The area is largely empty. There is a lot of space but plenty of areas to hide. He clearly should be able to know where she is at any time, but she has no idea where he could be. Simone darts her vision around. She grasps an object in her pocket. Her head is swinging around rapidly, covering most of her angles. She hears objects clattering about. It seems deliberate. Like Arad is trying to throw her off his track by tossing things to places where he isn’t.

 

Simone hears a prolonged scraping. Something is being run against the ground. She turns her head and at that moment, Arad emerges from a shadow behind her. He raises his arm to strike her neck with the railing. Simone quickly turns and releases a small orb from her hand onto the floor behind her. At that moment, he feels his limbs become heavy and drops to the floor.

 

“I know how to play chess, Master of Berserker.” Simone says matter-of-factly. She turns, tossing her hair up, “You make an opening to take a vital piece. If you do not take risks, you shall not achieve victory.” Her gaze is cold.

 

He can feel it. It’s a bounded field. Had he been more social, he would know that is the Luitgard’s area of expertise. Simone reaches into her pocket. She grabs a small marble and tosses it directly at Arad. It shatters against his skin and he feels his body become even heavier. As if he’s being crushed under the wheels of a car, he lurches and groans in pain.

 

“Wait!” Arad tries to lift his body off the ground, “You! Wait!”

 

“I wonder how many times you have heard that.” Simone replies coldly. She grabs a third marble. “Although I have my doubts that Klaus would have begged for mercy. He would not be so weak.”

 

Weak. The word rings in Arad’s head. He drags his body forward. Even laying a single hand on Simone he believes could allow him to overpower her. She tosses the third marble and surrounds him with a luminescent yellow wall.

 

“You…” Arad winces. “Let me make you a deal!”

 

“How quickly your previous methods are abandoned when they fail to produce results.” Simone’s face shifts from ice to flame, “At least have some dignity! Hold your head high! You have acted as a predator up to this point.” She feels her heart racing, “I suppose it is no surprise that you are in truth a scavenger.”

 

He’s helpless. Arad knows this. Simone knows this. Arad lets his body fall to the wayside.

 

To regather her thoughts, Simone counts to ten in her head. She has calmed down. Her face is no longer cold or angry but exhausted. The soreness around her eyes, puffed up from crying, becomes apparent.

 

“Suffocation or crushing,” Simone reaches into her pocket again, “Those are the ways my bounded field can kill. So, tell me: which would you prefer?” Arad feels his limbs lighten. He stands and shakes off the pain, then lets loose a fierce punch to the bounded field. No good. He’s effectively surrounded by a barrier.

 

“I have plenty I could offer you.” Arad says, taking on a sincere tone.

 

“I want my family back!” she shouts in response, “Can you give me  _ that?! _ ”

 

“I can help you win this War!”

 

“You are unable to even help yourself.” Simone narrows her eyes, “So choose.”

 

“Then,” Arad muses a moment. He wonders if he could shatter the barrier. Without a doubt, Simone wouldn’t stay to see him killed. “Suffocation would be a lot more satisfying, if you want revenge. It’s much more painful, I’m certain. Like, I’m going to die either way. I’m not some pussy who can’t handle it.”

 

“Hm. That is true.” Simone turns and begins to walk away. Arad starts to focus his energy, preparing for when she can’t hearn him. “But since you chose it,” she turns. Saber’s words repeat in her head.

 

There are ways a leader must conduct herself and reclusion from trauma is not one of them.

 

Show your enemies no mercy or compassion.

 

Do not avert your gaze.

 

“I shall execute the opposite.”

 

Arad feels Simone’s glare, filled with pure ire as the walls begin to enclose in on him. He lets out a scream, desperate for anyone who might be able to help him.

“Help! Somebody help me! I can - I will - I don’t want to - no!”

 

The cries of Berserker’s former Master become more stilted and incomprehensible as his flesh and bone are crushed. It is a gruesome, inelegant death. What once was the proud lineage of the Reier Dragon Tamers has been reduced to nothing more than a pile of meat.

 

Simone feels weak in the knees. She topples over. Even if she loathed him with all her heart, she can’t help but feel like a monster. Her stomach lurches. Unable to find the strength to move, Simone lets it loose right where she has fallen. She breathes heavily, at the tears falling onto the floor. It isn’t her stomach she feels, that she has lost. Not her stomach, not her wish, not even her family. What she has lost in this War was her heart.

 

Rolling into the fetal position, Simone allows the tears to flow. She holds her breath as best she could, so as not to cough or choke as she weeps. Now, she considers that ‘protecting the innocent’ was merely a pretense. Deep inside, she only wanted to get her vengeance. She wanted to hurt someone because she was hurt herself. It is a wholly selfish desire, unbecoming of a benevolent noble. Harm another to validate yourself.

 

Of course. That is the lifestyle of a magus.


	12. Dawn of the Final Day

There is no doubt about it: Saber is strong. If he makes a wrong move, he will cut down Archer without hesitation. He has obviously put forth extensive efforts to sharpen his fighting skills to their peak. Furthermore, he still does not know his opponent’s Noble Phantasm. For the sake of his Master, he must focus all his efforts into this battle.

 

So thinks Archer.

 

If he is not careful, Saber will be killed. Archer is not merely one who had great training. His natural talent and experience are all combined to create a fearsome opponent. Nobody would be able to fight him without having trouble. Furthermore, if Saber uses Oriflamme, its demerits could cost him the fight.

 

So thinks Saber.

 

Moreso than any other Servant, these two know this opponent was truly their biggest threat in this Grail War. For their Master, each must defeat the other. It is purely their devotion to their ideals that brought this combat into being.

 

Yet that is not why they continue. Not entirely, at least. Faced with such an opponent, very few prideful warriors would not be at least intrigued by the prospect of testing their skills. Saber continues to slash. He fills his offensive with feints intermingled with fatal attacks. Archer knows he cannot avoid all of the strikes and thus allows some through.

 

On the other hand, Saber can tell Archer is giving him flesh to get to his bones. Archer is bleeding, but still moving well. On the other hand, he has been finding openings to get solid shots off with his bow. Each one would be highly debilitating for most Servants. Luckily, Saber is not most Servants. Saber’s wounds are so deep his blood is coating the gymnasium floor, being tossed through the air with every step being made. At a glance, it seems like he is losing.

 

However, his movements do not slow in the slightest. Archer, on the other hand, is becoming sloppy. He is not greatly damaged but is exhausted. Saber has been moving in peak form for many minutes, not letting up his assault for even a single moment. No matter how large the difference in their wounds may be, Saber’s supreme endurance is giving him the advantage.

 

Saber swings his sword widely. In the end of his swing, he releases the blade. It flies out of his arm and he clutches the hilt with his left hand. The movement catches Archer off guard. Saber follows up one swing with a swift stab. The pommel of his blade strikes Archer in the throat. He continues the motion, knocking Archer off balance and setting him into position. With the blade held reverse in his left hand, Saber thrusts towards Archer’s stomach.

 

The unconventional attack does not prove effective. Archer rolls with the strike to his throat to escape from the blade’s strike. He fires his leg out and hits Saber’s ankle, momentarily disrupting his balance. He raises an arrow to his bow and fires again.

 

\----------

 

Assassin keeps an eye up, surveying the situation. He and Erin chose to simply observe. Assassin stands and stretches his legs.

 

“Well, we can get a win pretty soon.” he says, “Want me to leap into action?”

 

“I’d need to know the situation first.” Erin crosses her arms and pouts.

 

“Ah, yeah, you haven’t been keeping a bead on all of these guys. Okay, so, like, let me take it from the top.” Assassin pauses a moment, “Saber and Archer are fighting. If I go in I could probably take out Saber.” He turns his attention to where he last spotted Lancer’s motorcycle, “And Archer’s Master is knocking on death’s door. We could take him out if you want,” Erin averts her eyes, “Or we could just wait for him to pass on his own. It looks plausible.”

 

“You’d be surprised, with medical technology.” she says, “Don’t Archers have something around that, anyway?”

 

“I guess, but does he seem like the type who would want to live without his lord?” Assassin slows his speech, a bit unsure. His Master is telling him things that he didn’t think of.

 

“Also you forgot something important!” Erin hops to her feet and pats him on the shoulder, “We want Saber or Archer to make it through the night. That gives us our win against Lancer guaranteed.”

 

“Ah, right.” Assassin scratches his chin, pondering his choices, “Lancer isn’t that tough. But Saber is.” He pauses and continues, “On the other hand, we don’t know what Lancer’s Noble Phantasm does. We can plan around Saber’s.” He nods, “You want me to break them up?”

 

“If you will.”

 

“Then I’ll be off.”

 

\----------

 

Moving with care, Lancer rushes into the emergency room with Hugo’s body in tow. He shouts, in disregard for modern conventions, “We need medical assistance! My friend here has been assaulted by some vile ruffian!”

While others give him a strange look, a nurse approaches to ask him what he knows. Lancer provides the information he can. The name, Hugo Braddock, the damages of being beaten. She examines his body, suspicious as to what could have caused it. In his dragon-blood powered state, the wounds Arad left look less like that of what would happen in even a beating but more like he got into an accident involving heavy machinery. Lancer, unwillingly, forces himself to lie that he is unsure how exactly it may have happened. He swiftly redirects the conversation, saying that the questions should wait until after Hugo is treated.

 

\----------

 

Despite being covered in wounds, Saber appears little worse for wear. While Archer is breathing heavy, caked in sweat, Saber is stern and fresh. He has the advantage. Both his Master and his skills have given him the endurance advantage. However, he still has yet to score a definitively crippling blow on Archer.

“Archer,” Saber says, “It shall be rather destructive, but I know that I will not be able to defeat you unless I use my Noble Phantasm.” he drops his shield on the ground, “I tell you this as a courtesy. In respect for you as a warrior, I wish for you to have every opportunity to prepare yourself.”

“How chivalrous.” Archer responds. He wipes the sweat from his brow and tears his shirt off, revealing his muscular frame. “I shall respond in kind. While I am not prepared to use my Noble Phantasm, I shall become privy to your True Name. I shall reveal mine first.”

Assassin halts his intervention for a moment. He can’t let Saber fire his Noble Phantasm, but seeing this is a prize in itself.

“I guarantee you, this is even more revealing of my nature than my Noble Phantasm ever could be.” Archer says as he turns his back to Saber. He reveals the four Chinese characters emblazoned proudly across the well-trained muscles.

“Jin Zhong Bao Guo,” “Serve the Country With Utmost Loyalty.”

“I see.” Saber smiles, “Truly, you and I were cut from the same mold, Archer.” He tightens his grip on his blade.

“Oh, wait, wait wait.” Assassin takes his cue and drops into the area. He can feel the burning hatred at his intervention. That Archer revealed his True Name and his pride then and there, intending for it only to be for the Servant he respects more than any other, yet a foolhardy Assassin had viewed it, Archer feels his heart pounding with rage. Saber, as well, intended on bringing his battle with Archer to a conclusion.

 

“Tough room, I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Assassin says with a sigh, “But I have some important information for you guys that probably is more pressing than your smacking each other in the face with your Noble Phantasms.”

He explains the situation, about Lancer’s Command Spell forcing him to lose against Assassin should one of the two not die tonight. Assassin proposes they all work together on this. If the two disengage, he’ll clean up and defeat Lancer and both Archer and Saber can move on and finish each other some other night. He also confirms to Archer that his Master has reached the hospital. He chooses to not inform Saber of anything he might know about Simone, as that itself is a motivator for Saber to disengage.

“It appears to me as if you are the primary beneficiary.” Saber says.

“I have some bad news for you. That’s usually how deals work.” Assassin replies with a laugh.

“What reason do we have to believe your words, Assassin?” Archer asks.

“I may twist the truth, some may say lie by omission even, but I am not unlike you two. There is a phrase, ‘Honor among thieves,’ though I’d say it extends beyond thieves for us. Nothing I’ve said right now is a lie.” Assassin explains. He turns to Saber, then to Archer, “If you insist on killing each other, I at least ask that you guys do it  _ after  _ the clock strikes midnight. For my sake.”

“I only wish to ensure my Master’s safety.” Saber says.

“Then you go on ahead, I’ll fight Archer in your place.” Assassin waves him away.

“I share Saber’s sentiment.”

“They there’s literally no reason for any of us to be in this damn gym!” Assassin tosses his hands up in frustration, “Go! Go!”

 

\----------

 

She struggles. Her body feels cold and clammy. Simone is shaking, barely able to stand. She forces all her willpower to slowly start to exit the warehouse. One last time, she looks back at what’s left of Arad. Almost by instinct, she feels herself praying for forgiveness.

 

Simone finds herself met with Saber, having disengaged with the others. The moon illuminates his features just enough for her to see the regret in his face. It is a complex emotion, as if he is witnessing something he believes he should be feeling proud of, yet is torn apart by it. Saber allows her to bury her face in his chest and wet his breastplate with tears. He embraces his Master. Regardless of what he believes, he knows this is what she needs at the moment.

 

\----------

 

Having converted into his spirit form, Archer makes his way to the hospital. By morning, Hugo has received the medical attention he needs, but he is in poor shape. Archer enters his Master’s room. He sees Hugo, bandaged heavily. His body is braced to such an extent that movement would prove difficult. Archer, once confirming Hugo is in stable condition, checks the area. There don’t seem to be any cameras, which gives him every opportunity to materialize. It will cost more of his mana, but will guarantee his Master’s safety. For that, he would give even the last blood in his body.

 

Once he materializes, he feels as if Hugo is aware of his presence. Archer can sense the eyes slowly focus on his body. He holds a hand to Hugo’s head. Archer can barely stand to look upon him, covering his eyes.

 

Hugo’s hand glows a bright red. Archer is stunned. He crouches and immediately speaks. “This is not necessary.” Hugo has not said a single word, but his message rings true to Archer’s core. A second Command is issued. Archer steps back. He cringes. He feels utterly betrayed. However, this is his Master’s will. Hugo pauses with his commands. Archer sighs and looks him dead in the eye, filled with a burning seriousness that comes from his loyalty. One final spell is cast.

 

“Even if you have dissolved your contract with me,” Archer says, “You will remain my Master.” Hugo grunts dismissively. He seems upset. As he wishes to tell Archer that he does not wish to be his Master, but his friend. Archer bows, “Your desire shall not be in vain.”

 

Thus, he disengages.

 

\----------

 

Assassin sits atop the hospital and manages to catch Archer exiting the hospital. He nearly falls off balance when he feels the surge of power from Archer beyond anything that he displayed before.

 

_ (“Okay, that was something.”) _ Assassin tells Erin,  _ (“I think Archer just got Command Spell boosted. I don’t know what he’s up to.”) _

 

_ (“Then we’ll keep an eye on him.”)  _ Erin says.

 

_ (“I’m right here, I could kinda, y’know, what with his Master and all,”)  _ Assassin stands. He’s making motions with his hands over his throat even though Erin can’t see them.

 

_ (“I’d rather we,”) _ Erin pauses  _ (“Wait. Yeah. We’ll wait. We have Lancer in the bag. So if Archer is going out on the offensive, we need to see if he fights Saber.”) _

 

_ (“I’ll keep a pin on this hospital, then.”) _ Assassin says,  _ (“So that if Archer beats Saber, we can take out his Master fast and easy and then we win. We got this in the bag.”) _

 

_ (“Hm. That does make sense.”) _

 

Assassin feels a twinge of hesitation in his Master’s voice. He sighs. She certainly is hopeful that Archer will lose to Saber even if they have a winning strategy lined up. Assassin lies back and watches the clouds roll by as he thinks how fortunate his Master is to have not had a destiny to need to fulfill. He raises his hand up and points into the air.

 

“If you want it like that. I’ll leave it to you, then.”

 

\----------

 

The tea has grown cold yet again. Saber looks at his Master, sitting motionless at the table, staring into the distance. He takes the pot and pours out its contents.

 

“Lady Simone, I do believe I am a patient man, but if you insist on tea then it would be auspicious to actually drink it.” He says. He’s stern but still speaking as if walking on eggshells.

 

“It was more black then red.” Simone says, blankly. Saber turns his head. He looks at the teacup, curious. It is black tea, after all. Simone continues, “A person’s blood. When it comes out it seems more black to me.”

 

“It may be a minor opinion of but a humble knight, Lady Simone.” Saber speaks softly, “It is my belief that when a person has taken an innocent life, they have forfeited their own right to human dignity.” He sharpens his gaze, “It is no sin to wield a sword of justice.”

 

“Is that so.” Simone blinks and looks at the emptied cup of tea. There is a ring that was formed on the inside of the brown tea sitting at the level she preferred it, so as to add in the right amount of milk and sugar. She blinks again and looks back to Saber.

 

“Be that as it may,” she says, “There are some who are ill-equipped to wield a blade.”

 

Saber feels her strength returning with that statement. “That is only natural.” he answers, “A monk should not spill blood, and a knight should not cower from battle. Both are equally virtuous.” He puts hand on hers, “I must apologize. I have been misleading. My standards are most likely anachronistic with yours. I have been speaking to you as a knight to a fellow person of war. I should have spoken to you as I would my wife.”

 

Simone blushes at that. She turns her face away from Saber, “Not at all, it was no fault of your own. I entered this knowing full well the consequences. I may be young but I am far from oblivious. It is nobody’s fault but my own.”

 

“Do you regret it?” Saber asks, “Entering the War, I mean.”

 

“I fear the answer I may give.” Simone begins to tear up, “Do I regret my naivete causing the death of my dearest Klaus? Absolutely.” she lets her tears loose, “Do I regret killing Berserker’s Master? I cannot say I do. It pains me to know I have taken a life, but the thought of allowing him to continue living as he did would be a burden on me more.” Saber wipes her tears as she speaks, “But do I regret meeting you, Saber?” Her face flushes red, “Not in the slightest.”

 

Saber bows to her, “I am grateful that our time together has been enjoyable.”

 

They remain as such for a brief moment that feels like an eternity. Simone looks upon Saber’s golden locks, his handsome features and strong figure, carressed by his shimmering armor. She stands and invites Saber to do the same, holding her hand out so that he may take it.

 

“Saber?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Just once, might I call you by your True Name?”

 

“Once, twice, a thousand times. Let my name flow as freely as the air you breathe.”

 

“Thank you, Geoffroi.”

 

\----------

 

While he is in the process of brewing a pot of morning coffee, Lancer hums happily. He fished up a frilly pink apron from somewhere lost to Juniper and has proceeded to wear it alone as his clothes. She doesn’t really bother to ask him where or why. She’s lost in thought, pacing back and forth. She keeps glancing over to the balcony.

 

“But I must say, I didn’t think I could act as Venus today!” he says. He seems to have been saying something. Lancer pours the coffee and rushes back to the kitchen.

“Sorry, I was kind of zoning out.” Juniper says. She thinks the caffeine should clear up her dazed state of mind.

“Don’t act coy, you care for that guy! Hugo Braddock, was it?” he says, “I believe that nothing in the world is more noble than love! As such, I felt compelled to dress as Venus! Old habits die hard, as they say?” Lancer cracks a pair of eggs in a frying pan and begins to work them with a spatula so that they might form a heart.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you rewind a bit?” Juniper scowls at him.

“Now, honey, there’s no shame to be had in it.” Lancer doesn’t move from his efforts at the eggs, moving the yolks closer together, “Far from it, I would be ashamed if you had no feelings.”

“He’s an enemy Master, and he’s a pretentious yuppie.” Juniper quickly downs the rest of the coffee and slams the cup on the table, “You might have misconstrued a passionate hatred for affection.”

“But he’s a nice person and seems fun to be around. Think less of the world around you and simply enjoy his company, right?” Lancer slides the eggs onto a plate and moves it before Juniper, having arranged little bits of bacon into her and Hugo’s names. She immediately flicks them around into a disorganized mess and slashes the eggs out of their arrangement with a fork.

“If you didn’t care for him you’d have let me just kill him.” Lancer says with a sigh and a shrug. “I certainly see no reason to keep him alive.”

“I’m not some magus who kills people for kicks.” Juniper’s face is steadily becoming more flushed as Lancer keeps pressing the issue. “We’ve beaten Archer well enough, and especially with you fucking up last night we need the highest chances of someone else taking out Assassin.”

“Ah, I see you’re upset. Very well, I shall cease my actions as Venus and instead return to acting as your knight. In that case, we - ah, we have a visitor.”

 

Archer stands on their balcony. His weapon isn’t drawn and he holds his arms up to show submission but Juniper still leaps to the back of the room and directs Lancer to move forward. Lancer opens the window.

“Foremost: what are you wearing?” Archer asks.

“I was acting as Venus. Although I suppose I am a bit overdressed for it.” he grasps the apron and starts to loosen it, “Should I go a little farther?”

“ **Lancer, get dressed!** ” Juniper orders. He manifests his armor at her command. She grumbles something about not expecting to summon an exhibitionist as the Servants speak.

“Now that you have presented a question, I will respond with a question.” Lancer says. Archer wonders if his question if he should strip more doesn’t count but says nothing, “How did you find us and what are you doing here?”

“For the first question: you have both been very visible for many minutes. My Master had set up a method for me to traverse the city easily which I took advantage of. It would not be fitting for an Archer to be unable to see someone through an open window. For the second: Shameful as it may be,” Archer prostrates himself on the ground, “I have been bound by my Master’s Command Spells to grant your Master victory. I would not dream of disobeying an order, and thus I shall extend my offer to you. If you wish not to trust my word, so be it. I shall still support you.”

“What did I tell you?” Juniper steps forward and pats Lancer on the shoulder, “It ain’t got anything to do with my feelings. I just figured that rich boy was the type to do something like this.” She smirks, “That’s the whole reason we spared him.”

Lancer nods, although he is not trusting of her words entirely. “So we’ll be trusting him.” Although, he thinks, even if that part is true, it shows she seems to still have a sense of understanding for him. Lancer scratches his hair furiously, unable to accurately gauge his Master’s sentiments.

 

“Anyway, now we’ve got ourselves an easy win.” Juniper leaps onto her couch, “Assassin will probably be showing up here tonight, intending on you submitting to him, right?” she asks Lancer, “Well then, we’ll just have Archer sit in wait. You can take Assassin, if you’re at all competent.”

“Understood.” Archer stands and bows, “Shall I remain here? Shall I wait elsewhere?”

“Do as you please.” Juniper waves her hand to dismiss him, “As long as you keep an eye out for Assassin.”

“Very well.” Archer disappears.

Lancer claps once forcefully, “So, we’re taking the night off?”

“By no means.” she says, “Get your books out. We’re going to finish this tonight.”


End file.
